Hillsborough Poem

I wrote this poem soon after the Hillsborough tragedy and proves, even as a naive 17 year old, we all knew the truth but families of the 96 that died and survivors who were there that day, have had to fight for 23 years for the rest of the world to see.

Only this week (12/09/2012) the results of the Hillsborough Independent Panel's findings were published and the truth is now documented in black and white.

Full details can be found here http://hillsborough.independent.gov.uk/

My poem...

The crowd gathered
to watch the game
but to the officials
it only brought shame.

They started to push
when they thought they were late
so a senior officer
opened the gate.

Like a gallon of water
out of a funnel
the 3000 fans
rushed down the tunnel.

They all squashed in
the Leppings Lane End
and like pipe-cleaners
the barriers did bend.

On the pitch
a Policeman came
and, after 6 minutes,
the ref stopped the game.

An ambulance came
onto the football ground
and even then
some dead were found.

From the tunnel
the fans still gushed
and the kids at the front
to death they were crushed.

The police and the fans
were clearly shocked
to see three gates
that were still locked.

Across the pitch
a line was formed
to stop the Forest fans
being stormed.

But everyone
was on their best behaviour
and some of them
became a fans saviour.

An inquest began
soon after the game
and immediately the police said
they weren't to blame.

As people outside Anfield
wait in the queue
others lay down their scarves
both red and blue.

Most people in the hospitals
are very much alive
as we say Rest in Peace
"Hillsborough 95"

(The 96th victim was in a permanent coma following the tragedy and died almost 4 years later after the courts allowed him to 'die with dignity'.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tony_Bland)