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Ronald Finn

Award Winning Author & Poet

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About Ronald Finn


Ronald Finn is a poet and author from west London. 
He lives in Greenford with his wife  Janet.
Many of his works are related to issues close to his heart such as family and the environment.
Ronald has won multiple awards for this work and has read at the hugely regarded Hastings poetry festival.
Take a look at some of Ronald’s work and if you’d like further details or would like to get in touch

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Baked Beans

June 2005

Life’s like a tin of baked beans,

Broken promises, and shattered dreams


Poured onto a plate over toast,

Counting them to see who has the most.


Guilty of consuming ourselves with too much lust and greed,

Blaming others for our addictive needs.


We hide behind our knives and fork,

Dysfunctional people unable to talk.


Airing our grievances while fuelled by mistrust,

Failure isn’t an option, but success is a must.


Tomorrow will begin the same as today has ended,

Oblivious to those we have offended.


Who will pick the tab and stand up for their mistakes,

As one generation dies, another awakes.


The glass dome we surround ourselves in can only protect us for a while,

But who will protect the insecure child.


Choices are made everyday on supermarket shelves,

Is it a tin of baked beans, or a living hell?

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Anchor 1


April 2019

Mother what are the chances of peace on earth?
Will it make a difference for what it’s worth?
To live in a world without wars and starvation,
come the day we can respect every nation. 
Mother what would happen
If they dropped the bomb?
Would it really be so wrong?
The fact maybe we could start again?
No more enemies but a world full of friends.
Mother do animals go to heaven when they die?
I assume they have souls but if not why?
Does heaven have green fields with trees?
Do you think heaven may have room for me?
Mother I’m told I have to be good.
I do keep trying but I think I’m misunderstood.
On occasions I’m guilty of breaking the rules.
But I’m only trying to survive 
In a world full of fools.
Mother what if I’ve yet to have my finest hour?
Would that be of benefit to me
or seen as an abuse of power?
What if the government sent me to prison to do time?
For speaking out,
Would that be such a crime?
Mother what if they decided
To throw away the key?
Would you come and still visit me?
Incarcerated for the things I’ve done
Would you help me to escape these cold grey walls
and go on the run?
Mother do you have the answers to how and why?
If I choose to live or when I die?
To look back in old age to see what I’ve achieved.
Oh Mother, do you promise to never leave?

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Standing alone on a beach

In total isolation out of reach,

Watching waves crash against the rocks and sand,

Thoughts turn to the solitude of man.

In the name of progress tankers being their all,

On lost horizons we watch them fall.

Pollution is the name of the game,

So called evolution is our aim.

Who are these politicians that fail to lift a finger?

The consciences stained with the stench of death that’s left to linger.

Making money is all they see,

As they strip the earth like vultures of all its beauty.

We already know it’s too late.

They have already condemned us to our fate.

No doubt we will find someone else to blame.

After all, we are all equally guilty just the same.


What is there to be gained by standing on the sidelines of our dying world?

All we need to do is shout out no more and we might be heard

Anchor 2
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