To The 5 Point Ulster Calvinist Poem by Raymond Farrell

You are the spawn
Of those who came
To squat on and occupy land
Taken by murder from the Irish
We Irish are your Celtic kin
Proven to be so
By genetic research, no less
Back in ancient times
Our people served under the Bruce
Reinforced your Highland Brigades
And stood by your side
At Culloden
Because your pain
Was our pain
And your cause
Was our cause
And for this
You repay us
By knowingly
Occupying our land
Which was stolen from us
You are unwilling
To acknowledge
What you have done
Instead you stand
In your pulpits
And beat the Bible
Out of shape
Claiming you are
Predestined of God
For courts of glory
You cherry pick Scripture
Like you are attending
Some divine smorgasbord
But we know you intimately
We are your Irish neighbors
We do not know your words
And vain repetitions
These are merely an illusion
And not reality
We know your deeds
The rotten fruit
That continously
Falls from your tree
Do not delude yourself
Into believing
The God of the universe
Will set aside His laws for you
Thou shalt not steal
Bears no exceptions
Making your predestination
One for Hell
And not Heaven.