By Rory Moore

We stand in the place of our forefathers,
A lineage of political prisoners,
Prisoners persecuted by putrid people preaching poisonous propaganda and peddling pestilence.

Our crime?

A man burned to protest being ignored.
We screamed and cried and we wept and mourned.
We ripped up the street that was designed to suppress.
I guess it was our fault the tank introduced our face to the ground.

They buried us.
But because we were seeds, we grew.

Rory Moore is a member of Griese Youth Theatre in Co. Kildare and is a Young Critic for 2025.

This poem was inspired by the show “Nowhere” by Khalid Abdalla seen at Dublin Theatre Festival 2025.