Ireland is one of the most beautiful countries in the world. Beautiful scenery and the friendliness of the people make it a must for anyone’s dream destination list. One thing though, in Ireland, hotels are not just for tourists, homeless families stay in hotels too.
This poem tells the story about staying in hotels on the gorgeous green isle.
Plush throws draped across a kingsize bed
Linen woven from the finest Egyptian cotton
so as not to bother the princes' skin as he
slips unter the cover to sip a little champaign.
Plastic bags and toys neatly line up
on the narrow window sill,
Sleeping bag stuffe into a black bin bag
at least for now.
As mum turns of the lights, she
kisses them on the forehead.
"It's like being on holidays", she whispers.
Living out of a designer-label suitcase,
the prince has a castle to return to.
Living out of a few plastic bags,
mum and kids must stay,
condemned to a vacation indefinite.
As each day passes,
the little souls show more and more eroding holes,
until mum and kids are root-less in body, heart, and mind.
Ruthless, those allowing the wearing and tearing to go on and on.