Poetry

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Will it be a cold Christmas?
Joyless and bleak
This year in Manchester
For Mr. and Mrs. Peak

Amanda and Philip
Robbed of their pride and joys
By a drunken fool
Who murdered their dear boys

What words will comfort
The loss of Ben and Arron
What consolation is there?
To be found as the time goes on

Fathers chums, mothers pride
Funny, studious and mild
Our hearts bleed for them
No parent should outlive a child

They bear the mental scars
Of a life that isn’t fair
While Philip still broken
Sits confined to a wheelchair

I will think of the Peaks
As I spend Christmas with my family
And give thanks to God
They are all alive with me

It will be a sad Christmas
This year in Manchester
For Mr. and Mrs. Peak
The lonely mother and father

Ben and Arron will be there
If only in ethereal essence
Watching over mum and dad
I know they will feel their presence

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