The Irish Regiment Poem by Raymond Farrell

These are crack troops
with battle honors
to prove it
they stand silent and poised
waiting for the order
to charge
not one of them
wants to be here
still, they will never
cut and run
The King's Shilling
they desperately need
to help support their families
back home in bog-side hovels
compels them to fight
in unison
they fix their bayonets
and on command
charge with abandonment
the pent-up rage
from years of oppression
explodes in a wave of fury
cutting down all in its path
better to gain some glory
fighting and dying in battle
than to die of starvation
in some godforsaken hovel.