Belfast Rain Poem by Roy Watkins

Walk with me, feel my pain
With gun in hand in the Belfast rain
See people walking by
Remember their faces
People who've caused others to cry

Hunched shoulders
To this bleak beauty
Of damp green and grey
I have my gun I have my prey
Nothing I can do*,
This or any other day
(*For me to shoot I have to be shot at)

Dead probably
By the time I'd raised my sights
Tears flow as I listen to the people
Living in the rain walking their streets
With undecipherable Gaelic names

Keeping their peace
Not wanting to die
Soldiers and terrorists
Walking side by side
While he carries the shopping
I carry my gun