There had been blood in Croke Park
Irish blood wrung out
by the muscle of machine gun fire
in vengeance for English blood
shed in a quarrel as old as history;
the Irish and the English
at each other's throats
- father, son and holy ghost.
Each steeped in
certainty of being in the right.

There was blood
on the turf and blood
in the stands
and hate in a people's heart.
So where is it now?
Where did it go?
The echo of those guns
can never now survive
the welcome in Croke Park
for an English sporting side.