A Poem.

In 2003, I was in the Western Hospital when Joe and Wendy (not their real names) came in. Wendy told me this horrible true story.

Relating to the murder of Irish citizens by British soldiers in 1972 during a march for civil rights.

An abusive husband who is also a drunkard and his beautiful Irish wife, and how she finds love anyway.

Dealing with fake people.

A vendetta.

Description of me.

Overcoming man’s consistent brutality.