Ode to The Clutha

The Holy Poet sends this poem for the recent crash tragedy in Glasgow.

Our thoughts and condolences are with everyone affected.

The Clutha Bar.

A haven for locals and tourists, it’s a pub from an old Glasgow past

But as St Andrew’s day dawned, all Scotland mourned and Saltire’s flew at half mast

For tragedy struck as they revelled, in the old Clutha bar in the town

The music was loud, they heard not a sound as the police helicopter crashed down.

An explosion was followed by carnage and panicked, they ran for the door

But it’s the people who make Glasgow great, any city could not ask for more

Relying on instinct and bravery, they ran to save those trapped inside

The roof had collapsed and as some injured were freed, they hoped no-one in there had died.

People smothered by rafters and rubble, flung against windows and walls

Through the dust and debris, they searched for the rest, aided by harrowing calls

The emergency services took over and knew this was littered with dread

As they pulled out still more of the injured they also uncovered the dead.

The three in the copter had died and The Clutha uncovered five more

Black Friday had called in on Glasgow as they pulled even more through the door

One young man who looked for his father, held his vigil all night on the street

He calmingly spoke, I know for certain he’s dead; the roof fell in right by his seat.

How is that young man feeling and the families who’ve still yet to hear?

No offer of hope, no prayers can take back, the news that will fill them with fear

God bless them, look after our friends, as we all pay those dead our respects

Take nothing for granted in this life, as we know not its damning effects.

Praise to the emergency services and Glaswegians, and all, who helped out

With people like you we will flourish, of that, you’ve shown there’s no doubt

I pray for the loves who were lost and a prayer for those yet to grieve

And a prayer for the people of Glasgow, the best in the world, I believe.

The Holy Poet