The Leaving of Liverpool

Liverpool

There’s a box of tissues sat next to me as I type this. I’m thinking I’ve played it too safe and may have been wiser having two boxes. This post was due to be published on the 6th of July, my original move out day. Then I pushed that back to the 15th of July. And now, here we are on the 6th of August and I’m finally leaving Liverpool.

This might just be the hardest blog post I’ve had to write thus far – no, there’s no competition; it is.

I had intended to write about what makes Liverpool so great and what the place means to me, but I just couldn’t write it in the best possible way. There was so much that I wanted to say, but I didn’t know how.

So this is a little bit rogue from me, but I’ve decided to write a poem instead. I haven’t written a poem since secondary school, so please forgive – I’m no Seamus Heaney.

This is my goodbye to Liverpool

The day has finally come,
to bid my last farewell.
To the Liver bird, Bold Street, Albert Docks
and the Cathedral’s Anglican bell.

Liverpool I’ll always call home,
’til I find myself some place new,
but nowhere will compare,
to the city that’s red and blue.

From Edinburgh Road to Seel Street,
to Grand Central Halls,
I could walk around with my eyes closed,
but home is now where calls.

Paul, John, George and Ringo,
you may have heard of them all.
Concert Square, Matthew Street, Popworld,
or even the Philharmonic Hall.

You may have heard the stories,
by God, we had the craic,
but one thing I’ll be sure to miss,
is the McCooley’s Chicken Stack.

That Irish bar on Ranelagh Street,
I spent more time there than home,
but one thing about Liverpool is,
you’ll never drink alone.

To all the friends I’ve made here,
those who have come and went,
life-long friends I’ve now acquired,
if I could tell you how much it meant.

To those weekends spent in Lanigans,
to all those Liffey Sunday’s,
the last place you’d want to find yourself,
is downstairs in the Raz on Monday.

In my second year I will admit,
I couldn’t wait to leave,
but those twelve months spent in London,
gave me all the time to grieve.

It was the first time I felt homesick,
but not for where I was born,
for home is not a place but a feeling,
something that I must warn.

For if you come to Liverpool,
arrive with an open heart.
After four years in this city,
I can’t bear that it’s time to depart.

Now the time has come,
who knows when I’ll return.
The hardest goodbye I’ve had to say,
oh Liverpool, for you I’ll yearn.

Degree in hand, I now must go,
and leave this place behind,
but heart of hearts, this I know,
there’s nowhere like it I’ll find.

For it’s the greatest city on this earth,
and its beauty I’ll profess,
but now all that’s left to say is,
t’ra our kid, God bless.

By Orlagh Shanks.

Liverpool

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