This really can’t be healthy
20, 40, 60 likes
Quick as stolen motorbikes
“You’re so beautiful”, “Pretty”,
“You’re so stunning.”
Just keep on coming
But every single strangers comment
Disguises all that teenage torment
At first you believe it,
Reply “Thank you”
Deep down you think
It can’t be true.
But then a whole school day passes
You hear the whispers in the classes
Something that’s not remotely true,
From those who don’t even know you.
Words replay again and again
Over and over inside your head,
You start to believe the lies they said
People say “they are just jealous”,
Insults traded overzealous
But really how could they be
If they don’t know you or anything you do?
Well this is just coming from my point of view
But I think that you can be what you want to be and not what others want to see
Be true to you.
Rant over, phew.
The Cottage and the Lake
I see the lake
A sad and lonely blue
It screams at me and sings to you
For it is as haunted
As these solemn stones,
It has claimed so many sorry souls
A mystery that life unfolds
Yet in the lonesome Connemara morn
I can hear the ghost of Padraig Pearse
Whisper in the wind.
Colm Óg Ó Conghaile
My Mam died 6 years ago when I was 10.
I cried for all time and time again
My grief turned into suicidal thoughts
Anger replaced what sorrow had wrought
I screamed through the night
Started punching the walls
I fought back the tears
That sorrow recalls
But bottling things up
Only makes things worse
For love is a blessing
And silence a curse
I started to talk to people
To share in my strife
Now I’ve learned how to love
Myself and my life.
Remember the predator
The one who never knocks
In the forest of fools
Where life starts to unlock
Remember feeling when the pills kicked in
When that smooch fell apart and fell off with your skin
Remember judge, remember the jury
Remember the executioner’s fury
Tis the law of the land where you run around in circles
Remember each lap that you run has hurdles
Remember the hunter
Who chases nothing but living blocks
Near the hunter is where you can fill your carts
Remember the bills that slide in after you kill the bats
I will give you a pooch that has a big heart without fudge, fury, and punisher
Tis the law of my hand where you drop all your shekels.
Conchur Philip O’Conneely
She doesn’t think she’s pretty
There will always be someone smarter
Skinnier, faster, prettier
Every teenage girl focuses on these things
Most parents pity her.
She thinks about new shoes
In school she doesn’t pay attention
She often thinks of him
Instead of education.
She won’t eat as much
As much as she used to
And the bad thing is
Her parents have no clue.
She doesn’t know she’s beautiful
She thinks she’s ugly, no one likes her
Someone on this planet cares about her
And that is this poem’s writer.
Her main priority
Should be getting out of school
But she wonders all the time
If she’s pretty enough for that sleazy tool
She needs to get through college
Pursue her career
If she doesn’t even try
What’s the point here?
She thinks about If shes pretty enough
Is her style okay
She can’t see how perfect she is
In her own little way.
“Will I ever meet a guy?
Who makes me laugh and smile”
If her parents knew what was going on
They would sit down and talk for a while
She needs to open her eyes
Focus on what’s to come
No job cares about who she likes
Her shoes, just the stupid things she’s done.
When Summer Comes
Just an empty town with twenty clowns
full of expectations for our generation
to do good and make good
but all we really do is nothing
Some big rocks it’s a black box
All there is, is sheep i need some sleep
Appealed with a field but no Garfield
Well, I’m lining up six or seven good jobs
My hair’s looking great and my friends are all snobs
Our school is an endless black pool of regret
Homework? Ah please no more paper work I’ll fret
Blow up this town cause we come from below
Cant wait for the summer to let us all go.
Lots of things makes me happy,
Small things mean a lot.
From picking rose flowers to
Working as an astronaut.
My life is so amazing,
It feels like nothing ever goes wrong.
I feel like a cow grazing
In a field listening to a birds song.
Cows are so peaceful,
They don’t worry about life.
They’re unlike the beetle,
That are always so evil.
My life is so amazing,
I have no excuse for complaining.
The world is so fascinating
Life is too short to be hating.
Sarah Ní Chuirrín
I do not like bullies
Bullies don’t like you
I think they are bored
So they pick on a few.
Maybe bullies have bad home lives themselves
Most bullies are popular, they’re seen as rebels
Their friends laugh along, they join in the patter
All people are the same and it does not matter
If you are black, brown, yellow or white
Words are the weapons with which you can fight
A bully can be mean saying bad stuff to you
Then you believe what they say is true
You get yourself down you start to shout
It is sad that their world relies on your doubt.
So let someone know that you are bullied
But it is not that easy to say it fully
Because there friends will bully you too
For letting the know what is true.
So it is better when you tell someone
It will help you some one will be beside you from there on
They will help you fight back at them
And hope they will never bully again.
Christopher Ó Maille
Curly hair? Don’t care
It’s a love/hate affair
It can be a blessing or a curse
But really things could be worse
From messy buns to big massive curls
I know I’m the same as some other girls
And even twirling
Just to keep people believing
I’m not lying
I’m just trying
To be someone I’m not.
No Law Degree
She says you need to study hard,
You need to get a good job,
She says she says it cos she cares
Not cos she’s a snob
The expectations are too much,
She want me to get five A’s,
I want to live my own life,
To be the master of my days
I want to follow my dream,
No matter how crazy it seems,
Most of all I just want to be me,
This dream don’t need no law degree.
Colm Óg Ó Conghaile
Smart on your Feet
You have to be smart
With the brain and the heart,
If you want a good future,
Remembering parts of lines from a book,
Won’t stop what should become of your culture,
Not everyone is going to know all the answers,
What stops the professor will not stop the dancer,
From random questions about solving equations,
To meeting your parents expectations
Why should it stop you fulfilling your dreams,
From discovering life’s impossible schemes
Work nonstop and this will be true,
What seems bad at first,
Will all work out for you
School is so Cruel
You have to be smart for a brighter future
Be interested in school be interested in culture
But what if you have no interest in school at all
What if studying hard is just not your call
You have all there teachers looking down at you,
Each day is a struggle just to get through
Saying to your parents that you’r lazy that you’re a fool
That you just don’t seem to listen in school
You don’t need to work hard at school to know you’r good at something
To know you can get a good job just like bob
Because at the end of the day test results do not define our future.
Kerri Ní Fhlatharta
I live in Camus Eighter
And my life is happy enough
But some days I feel as if
This shit is just to much.
The pressure to work
Hard at your study
To keep yourself clean
Though Rosmuc can be muddy.
Parents can put your life
There’s too many rules
And I’m no one’s professor.
But then I think of other people
And all they have been through
And I think to myself
Count yourself lucky
It could have been you.
Nathan Hehir Gannon
A Coping Mechanism
Im not gonna lie, life isn’t all that easy
When you’re fighting the fight trying not be cheesey
People think drinking is just about craic
But to me its so more than that
To me it’s also a coping mechanism
See substances can counter criticism.
Most people joke about adoption and stuff
But to me reality gets that rough
No, I’m not adopted but foster care is an option
See I’m the architect of disruption
It’s not that my parents are unfit to take care of me
I just act up just to get noticed you see,
For attention I’ve spent nights in juvenile
Some nights on the street cos that is my style
Simply because life was too much
Sometimes my parents can be a soft touch.
I come from a high achieving family, meaning they’re seriously smart
The expectation to do good in school can tear me apart
Right now I don’t apply myself, just because I cant
School feels like a brain transplant
Definitely not for me, but I still want some sort of education
Or else I’ll end up locked up in the Garda Station.
One night I was out with my friends,
We were having mighty banter,
Had a row with himself, now making amends
He’s quite the smooth enchanter,
He said you were my girlfriend,
He told me to cop on to myself
Have some manners,
I left with my friends,
Switched on my iPhone’s
School exams only test memory,
They waste a lot of energy,
The education system is unfair,
They would tell you anywhere,
Because no ones mind is a like,
No wonder so many kids go on strike,
No one is good at everything,
No one knows everything,
There is no such living thing,
People who are getting an A or a B,
Makes them no better,
To someone getting a C or D,
Doesn’t make them smarter then eachother
At the end of the day its only a grade number,
The set up of the education system exams,
It’s like asking like a monkey and a fish to climb a tree,
Obviously the monkey is going to get an A,
And the fish is going to fail, and go a stray,
But that dos’ent mean the fish is useless,
But society makes it feel like that,
The system dos’ent let people become creative,
They must see,
To always let the imaganations run free,
It limits them from their greatness,
Makes their ideas seem aimless
People that are capable of great things,
Need to spread their wings,
And must not be slowed
Because if they dont they will go down the wrong road,
Because they are hurt,
All because that’s what society made them think they are worth.
Cliodhna Ní Niaidh