Am I Pretty Yet? If pretty means skinny like you made me believe Am I pretty yet? If pretty means hating my bloated belly and thick thighs Am I pretty yet? If pretty means going on diets or not eating at all Am I pretty yet? If pretty means doing belly wraps and juice fasts

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In Our Day and Time In our day and time Being weird was fine Looking down on others wasn’t a crime But we found pride In their stride Looking up got you blame. You knew only fear and were afraid You lived your life in a problem state But you couldn’t give out No world

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Gormanston College, Co. Meath

Judged We’re a hated generation, But there’s one explanation. They forget who raised us, And no one ever praised us. Drinking, smoking, Walking around doping. Teens can’t cope, All they are told is to have hope. Our peers are judgemental, When they’re caught its “accidental.” Our elders put more pressure, To make us more clever.

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Twisted Realities Is an everyday reality really what it seems Can you alter your own realities with what you see in your dreams Can your dreams become reality Or is it a matter of factuality Can you make whatever you want of yourself Or is life already written and put away on some bookshelf what

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Three Years The weeks leading up to It, Didn’t do anything to prepare me, For what was to come. Sleepless nights, Tear-stained face. Countless trips to the doctor. My best friend, My rock, My beacon of light, My sister. The loss of hair, Didn’t change her beauty. Her sickness, Never deterred my love. Three years

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Routine The same routine until I’m eighteen No timeouts, day in day out Always stifling a shout About the injustice The thought of study disgusts us Forced to follow hypocritical rules They don’t realise it’s cruel To echo the same routine Everyday ’til I’m eighteen. Sarah I Am Grey This world has labels, too many

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Ursuline College, Sligo

Unbroken, Untied I don’t know where I want to go, but I know I want to start All I’ve got is a broken and empty heart. With widening thoughts And narrowing sidewalks People pass and look but don’t really see People hear not listen when talking to me. But all around me I marvel at

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Summerhill College, Co. Sligo

On Solitude I built my house within where others live, But there is no noise of people or birds. You ask how this is possible: When the heart is distant, solitude comes. I pluck chrysanthemums by the western fence, see the distant southern mountains. The mountain air is fresh at dusk. Flying birds return in

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Escapism Into her room she shuts the door to world Closing out society that clearly knows best The overflowing thoughts of the day’s constrictions and expectations Knocking her down to tears Into her hands a book appears The tears still flowing but nobody hears She speeds into the new world to make imaginary peers Hundreds

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The Shadow The shadow hid in the corner, flames prowled the hall. They passed by, loud and colourful as always. They glided by in groups, The loudest surrounded by devoted followers, They paid no heed to the shadow.   She clutched the wall like a life vest, Panic building in her chest Then the flames

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