I scratched my name but not for fame.
Upon the whitened wall,
"Bobby Sands was here," I wrote with fear
In awful shaky scrawl.
I wrote it low where eyes don't go
'Twas but to testify,
That I was sane and not to blame
Should here I come to die.
I heard the creak of creeping sneak
The watcher on his round.
'Twould be, I thought, but all for nought
If caught upon the ground.
My dancing eyes bore no disguise
They leapt like flames of fire,
When Christ I stared as at me glared
The death name of "Maguire".
I paled with fright it was death alright
I stood like trembling bird,
And felt the look, the Watcher's duke
As he passed by unheard.
But one thought lay upon mind's bay
'Twas anchored deep, my friend,
'Twas that man's name and cruel pain
That seen him to his end.
The light burned bright was day now night
Who cared of such in hell,
For a man's mind spent all it's time
On when he'd leave the cell.
For who knew when or there again
Just who knew if at all,
If the next creak or creeping sneak
Was death's breath come to call.
The floor was cold on stocking sole
And boots forbidden things,
For one might die if one might tie
A noose with lacing strings.
For tortured men seek death's quick end
And branchmen know this too,
For stiffs won't talk so men must walk
The floor without a shoe.
I heard the moans and dreadful groans
They rose from some man's cell.
And knew I then that this poor friend
Had something big to tell.
I'd heard him go some hours ago
His step was smooth and light,
But he'd come back like crippled wreck
Or one who'd lost a fight.
All listened hard except the coward
Who squirmed upon his bed,
The pain of men just does not blend
With he whose silvers weighed.
It tore our ears and primed our fears
This man's tormenting groans
It made men reel for all could feel
The hurt on this man's bones.
I stewed like rat in porter fat
Fermenting drunk with fear.
When would they come, who'd be the one?
The time was drawing near.
I worried sick and scurried quick
Like a blind man in a storm,
I had no course but followed force
Of terror's blasting horn.
The light burned bright was day now night
Or was night turned to day.
Forty hours, I'd sweated showers
In panic-stricken fray.
This waiting game was greatest strain
And though I knew their ploy,
It did not ease nor did appease
But helped more to destroy.
My stomach turned, it churned and churned
Stirred fast by swirling dread.
'Twas times like this in wretchedness
A man fell down and prayed.
'Twas times like this in cowardliness
That men would break their code,
And spill the beans in cowardly screams
To shed this murderous load.
The groaning died, we tortured sighed
And silence fell again.
And so did that, that ties a knot
To choke the very brain.
Depression, friend, it did extend
In waves through every cell,
Crept up behind and bit the mind
Like shock from bursting shell.
I'd nought to do but see it through
I fought it tooth and nail.
It said to me in evil glee,
"Give up and go to jail.
The prison bars you'll see in hours
If you just sign your name.
Or just admit a little bit
Regardless whose to blame."
I heard the clink of metal link,
The Watcher was abroad.
He squeaked and creaked, tip-toed and sneaked
On shoes that were not shod.
Ne'er e'er he spoke and still unbroke,
The silence hung in awe.
He watched you quake and watched you shake
And told them all he saw.
When he had gone I sat upon
The monstrous heavy bed.
What little air there was to spare
Was pumped out overhead.
It came through vent to no extent
To barely fill the lungs,
So ate we crust of dirty dust
And choked upon our tongues.
And who could sleep in sweltering heat
With rattle of the vent.
'Pon canvas sheets caked firm in pleats
With sweat that men had spent.
The bright white light gave no respite
And cut the eyes to shreds,
And left an ache to devastate
Already bursting heads.
White walls! White walls! Torturous sprawls,
With ne'er a window space.
And so confined a quaking mind
Goes mad in such a place.
The monotony so torturously
Cuts deep into the mind,
That men lose hope and just elope
With charge of any kind.
There's one to eight left to deflate
Will e'er they come to end.
I rose depressed for who can rest
With torture to contend.
From wall to wall my thoughts did trawl
Behind my dragging wake,
And shouted they in disarray
"How much dare you take?"
"How much! How much! for pain will touch
Your very spirit, man.
And what you doubt may well slip out
And fry you in the pan.
She, you or him need bear no sin
They'll give you one for free.
If break you will they sure as hell
Will give you two or three."
The moans and groans they froze our bones
I heard the next man pray.
'Twas him again, said I in shame
"That poor lad's on his way."
The very air screamed in despair
Contorted with pure fear,
For 'twas a tap on outside flap:
The torture men were here!
The tension snapped like grizzly trap
It gripped me by the throat.
And every sense lost all defence
Like gale-lashed drifting boat.
And undisguised, my thoughts capsized
And drowned they in my fear.
And washed they out with any doubt
Of what was drawing near.
A death hush fell for none could tell
Where fate was going to fall.
All held their breath as pale as death
For pain had come to call.
And stood we still in awful thrill
I trembling unashamed,
An angry wound flashed the room
Twas fear of fear inflamed.
Their cramped slow steps eased through the depths
Of clinging floating fear,
I dared a sigh as they passed by
Like hunters stalking deer.
Then came the word like call of bird
They'd found their trembling prey,
And none knew whom was bound for doom
As they led him away.
A prisoner's mind may pass the time
In dreamy hopeful thought.
In Castlereagh from day to day
A thought's a battle fought.
And sinking men cling fast, my friend,
To hope within a thought.
A cherished smile or voice of child
Are life rafts to be caught.
From cell to cell they moved 'round hell
With food to feed the starved.
And keeping rules, gave plastic tools
So wrists could not be carved.
On paper plate in greasy state
They placed it in your hand.
But who could eat the devil's treat
Or who could give a damn?
They watched you too, while in the loo,
They stood while you sat down.
But men must do what men must do,
So turn your head around.
And ne'er they slink in all men's stink,
And ne'er they flush or pale.
What kind of men are these, my friend,
Who walk the devil's trail?
As twice before, he groaned once more,
The rattling noise began.
I quickened pace to such a race
That God I nearly ran.
That neighbour prayed and bright light slayed
The Watcher came to peak.
I felt the ill of weakening chill,
Like wind around my feet.
I slowed the pace this terror race
Was never to be won.
For creak of bed sparked awful dread
And nerves would jump the gun.
T'was ten to nine, for that's the time
I heard the watcher say.
But was it light or was it night
I ne'er knew either way.
And some are wrought with sickening thought
It tears their very heart.
It eats their mind like burning lime
And rips their soul apart.
It puzzles men and muzzles them
It leaves each one distraught.
It is that fiend that asks unseen,
'Just how did you get caught?'
I'd torn my jeans twice at the seams
And hidden matches there.
For men must use each little ruse
And take each passing dare.
If one had luck a lousy butt
Could calm the nerves no end.
For cultured taste takes second place
When you're in hell my friend.
The Watcher came to check again,
I froze with sound of key.
Like ticking clock I stopped with shock
As time ran out on me.
And god forbid, but flew it did
Like screeching blackbird flew,
Across the floor, through open door
As he barked 'INTERVIEW!'
The dreaded word, like trapped bird,
Went shrieking above my head.
It screamed and screamed and God it seemed
Like calling of the dead.
He looked at me unenviously.
Said he, 'They want you friend.'
I looked at him, like man in sin,
Goin' out to meet his end.
- "The Crime of Castlereagh" Bobby Sands
.jpg)
