The Nightmare of Hillsbrough
¶ 1
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A tear drop drips from your eye,
and onto your pillow it falls.
You eventually drift into sleep,
although another restless night calls.
You awaken in the night,
your brow soaked in beads of sweat.
You were once fed a Hillsborough nightmare,
one you’ve never been able to forget.
You long to switch off your mind,
to taste the freedom of sanity once more.
You’ve been down many a dark avenue
desperately searching for a cure.
But some people don’t realise that you’re ill
and just cruelly turn their back.
These people just see a defeated person,
but it’s understanding that they lack.
And in your head you carry around with you
a heavy stone of grief.
It weighs you down and it wears you down,
no respite however brief.
This torture follows you around
in the form of your own personal Hillsborough Hell.
If only sleep could offer you an escape,
but your visions you still cannot quell.
A tear drop drips from your eye,
and it won’t be the last tear that you shed.
The nightmare of Hillsborough you wake up to,
as well as take to your bed.
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