[Margaret Pilkington]

We let them come.
We hold open our door,
For those disadvantaged
The displaced and the poor.
We hold out our hands
No matter their colour or creed
We open our hearts…
Fulfil human needs.
Shelter and food….the basic stuff.
But all that we do,
Well, it’s never enough.
Disgruntled and angry.
They take up a knife…
With seventeen thrusts
They ended his life….
The life of a man who
Who was gentle and kind.
Leaving sorrow and sadness
We aren’t meant to mind.
We ‘re still meant to welcome,
To honour and trust….
Those in our county….even if they’re unjust


I know it’s only doggerel, but it is how I feel