Dedicated to the Liverpudlians by A. Bromilow, a broken-hearted Evertonian Scousers were looking forward to the semi-final game, At Hillsborough and Villa, it should have been the same. We weren't aware and we hadn't heard a thing - Didn't know the horrors a day like that could bring. At four forty-five, as we left the ground There was no jubilation, hardly a sound. We left for home, not a word was said, As over the radio it was "eighty-four dead." I shook my head, and froze in pure disbelief My fellow Evertonians all shared in the grief. We feel for each person, family or friend - How I wish all their suffering torment could end. All the broken hearts and shattered lives That this terrible day has brought, You'll never walk alone, my friends. You'll always have our support. href="http://seligorscastle.zoomshare.com/" target="_blank">
THE BELL
The bell tolled all afternoon we did not send to ask for whom.
It told of flowers heaped in a goalmouth,
red and blue scarves heaped together at an altar;
it told of eyes like TV screens haunted by last night's images
tears dried by the April wind.
As the flags at half-mast stirred overhead the deep bell
still tolled in our heads long after the light had gone.
Adrian Henri, April 1989