When I was growing up, I was always told
Be your own person
It was just a shape, to mould.
But little good did that do when it came to society
Only the normals were accepted, never room for variety.
In our generation we get shamed for everything we do
Especially by our own
From being fat to skinny,
Even stupid to clever too.
Nobody’s an exception,
Despite what you may think
You’re merely a ship on water that’s bound to sink.
Bullying is everywhere
From at home to in school
Sometimes from jealously
Or because it was “cool”.
It doesn’t only happen to children and teens
It’s brought into lives of adults,
With power and greed
So you may think you’re alone and the truth is you are
But only because people are too afraid to share who they are
But if we all stick together and say we’ve had enough
We can put these “normals” to shame because they’ve run out of luck.
Chloe Fitzpatrick and Saoirse McDonough
We are the Broken
The best are made of broken parts
The best are broken down
And it’s all the same
The group of friends who enjoy sports and parties
Are the ones who make the brightest the darkest
They put out the flame to their candle
And the few times they confide, they’re shunned, or they turn away
The people they depend on the most leave or move
And leave them a mess.
Who don’t tell, don’t say
They leave for others
The broken then don’t confide and don’t tell
They walk the tightrope of everyday with a bomb vest strapped to their chest
They can fall at any time
But we never pay any attention to them
We tell them that it’ll get better
And that’s probably true
But we’ll never understand that the future to the broken is a million miles
And we leave them to their own devices, leave them with the others
And never FOR ONE SECOND ever bother to understand
The invisible war they’re fighting
And we think the solution is to push more pills across the table
To send them to more councillors only to reach the same conclusion
To ignore the mean kids and teenagers
Outside turns into war zones
Canteens turn into minefields
They’re afraid to feel
So they don’t
For fear that the next thing said
Might blow the fuse
Then they’ll be sorry
And that’s the only time they are sorry
When they think there’s an actual consequence
And when they’re over the grave
THEN THEY SAY THE NICE THINGS
THEN THEY’RE SORRY
Then and only then
And for what?
So they can make themselves feel better
So they can somewhat live comfortably with the fact
They broke the broken
They took a Picasso and sprayed graffiti on it
They could’ve been beautiful
They denied them that
From the first word
Walking the tightrope
A short fuse
Fighting, sometimes they lose
We are the forgotten
We are the broken.
The Final Battle
I single bead of sweat rolls down his face
He struggles on, writing, panicking
Unable to keep up with the pace
Trying to remember something anything
That could help him, he’s done
According to his mother this test is his life
And it could be over before it’s begun
No future no money no wife
Just 17, hardly a man
Not cautious or alert
He stands at the end of the plan
Out of the final battle, the Leaving Cert.
I Was Blind
For the rest of my life I will never be able to understand why I put myself through such pain.
Day after day , I would go to school and go through a lifetimes worth of hassle.
For years I thought they were my friends. I was blind.
I seemed to live through a consistent hard time, everyday when I came home
I thought my hell was over , it turned out I was just walking into the flames.
Nobody knew about the trouble I went through,
I didn’t even notice it myself. I was blind.
How have I only noticed all this now?
The people I called my “friends” and even my “brothers” destroyed my morale.
I could not understand the principles of it all. Surely a big guy like myself could never be bullied.
But no I was wrong,
I was bullied.
I was blind.
Beacon of Hatred
There’s a reason you sit there
Picking your fingernails
Combing your bitten fingers
Through that greasy hair
Staring into space
Shivering in the shower
There’s a reason
You don’t want to go to school today
That you’ve got nothing to say
There’s a reason you’ll never be happy with your physique
Or the spots on your cheek
That you’ve got no reason to stay
That reason has a face
That reason has a fist
That reason needs no reason.
If You Look at This
If you look at this, this way you would see the colours are different but it’s what’s within
Not just the shade that makes you afraid
Wake up in the morning, where’s the first aid
Stiching those glitches they scarred on your face
It’s so hard like your lives in a maze
It’s not a Nintendo game or a reality game
Open Snapchat oh theres your face
No.1 quote “You’re a disgrace”
Happens not once or twice its’ by the human race
The moment you’re about to spill your own blood tells you to chill.
We’re all told this is the time of our lives
Where we settle down and find our wives
Where we go to college and drink is life
When we wake up with someone we might not like.
We’re told we have to study at night
When all were doing is wasting our lives.
We all at one stage can’t sleep at night
Because we’re all afraid we might end up a failure despite
All the work we put in late at night
I think we might be losing this fight.
Bullies are nothing but sad and cruel
They act this way mostly in school
They always pick on the lonely one
The one who wishes they had a gun.
The bully does this to act big and proud
So he is the one who controls the crowd
The boy is alone, so he checks his phone
He has no friends, only mean texts that the bully sends.
School is finished, the boys at the gates
He checks his Facebook were the bully awaits
He can’t take it so he uses drugs
To try and avoid these ridiculous mugs
He’s giving out to himself because no one has a clue
So how would you feel if this was you?
Imagine life without a struggle and every day is sunny
Where happiness is really free and there is no need for money
When happiness is there it only shines in the shadows
For those who had their eyes closed they will overcome the battles.
Imagine life without depression
Where the lust and love you felt didn’t turn into obsession
When you love something too much you end up getting hurt
For those who know this feeling, yeah you get treated like dirt.
Imagine life without injustice
Where they all treat you the same, you don’t end up feeling loveless
When you start to get happy, something always screws up
For those who agree, we all know this shit is tough.
I wake up in the morning fearful
And always end the day tearful
I walk into school with my bones ready to break
But it’s not my body but my mind at stake
Why they do this I will never know
When I get home I feel like I’m about to blow
Before it happens I imagine hurting them
But when it happens I just want my Mam
Maybe I need to change so they’ll leave me be
Cause maybe its not just them its me
Sean Power & Jamie Canning
It stands, silent.
The Tower stands, tall and proud and new and fresh
The malachite vines link alcove to alcove on
The shining ivory surface, the sun glinting off the smooth cut stone.
The Tower stands powerless. The Tower stands silent.
Refusing to cry out as the once benign vines, turn maleficent
And choke her with their grotesque tendrils.
The Tower stands, old and weak and limp and dying.
Short of breath and short of time. Her foundations soon betray her,
and the ivy grabs hold as The Tower cedes
In a final act of defiance, the tower falls, toppling
The vines lose their hold as brick separates
From brick. Finally in death, it can be free.
The Tower stood.
And The Tower stood silent
Coming in the Front Door
Coming in the front door
Wishing happiness and excitement and nothing more
Avoiding trouble and having good names to be addressed by
Which ended up with me using the tissue to cry.
They mocked me slagged me roasted me
Without even ending with an apology
I talked with brother friend and the mother
Which then I realised I can’t go any further.
I cried and cried and asked for assistance
Which then made me create a distance
Between friends strangers family and more
It felt like I was being enclosed between the ceiling and the floor.
I was gonna go and end it with one more metre
But then I was approached by a Christian preacher
He told me I was saved and that God loves me
I’m telling this story now that I’m nearly forty.
Coming in for another school day
Hoping it will be different
Wishing all the pain away
Hoping the bullies will be distant.
But again the torment starts
The bullies are fast approaching
No remorse in their hearts
Just them being there is choking.
The names and abuse come raining in
Feeling helpless and alone
Told just to take it on the chin
By adults not knowing the pain shown.
His only saviour is the ringing bell
Telling him to leave
But now he has to tell
Parents about new bruises he’s received.
Saying it’s no big deal,
Unwilling to tell the truth,
Hoping time will heal,
The problems of his youth.
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We spend our days with our heads stuck in our phones
Checking social media judging the people around us
Our so called friends who you are always able to say
Something negative about, yet you lead them to believe that
You care about them by liking there picture or commenting
Some fake shit to make them feel better about themselves
Instagram, Facebook or Snapchat used to promote self-images but some people are too scared to even post a selfie.
Some able to basically expose themselves and they call the
Conscious of us: “freaks” or “weirdos”
Some use Tinder to feel better about themselves but a
“Match” is a hollow slag my people with fake accounts
Messing with your head and then the proud owners of people with a thousand likes on their Facebook.
The people who think they’re too good to talk to someone with only a hundred
The stuck up “squads” who think people bow down to them and the independent who get
“chatted” about or “posted” about into groups and statuses
Getting called such insulting terms like “geebags” “whores” and “slags”
We block them thinking out of sight out of mind but that really isn’t the case, the hate continues
We believe that they will forget about us but it gets worse
Then you can’t take it you unblock them and what you see is no surprise
How could all these social medias make us so unsocial so much communication but nobody to actually talk to
Facetime without a real face
How can we talk to someone so much on the internet but not a single word will get passed in real life
Thousands of Facebook friends but no a real one in sight
Yet the happiest of us are the ones who have not a care of their own image
How to aspire to look like no one
How can this be true
In the age of social media
My mind is so deep in thought
I think there is something wrong
Did you try calling for me?
No, no one believed in me
I woke up in the morning
First day of school
Obviously not considered cool
The no.1 fool.
It was just another night, just another session
Little did they know tomorrow there would be depression
He was young, smart good looking too
The worst he had done was sniff some glue
But, like everyone he was insecure
He wanted to fit in with the boys
He drops three pills, all he hears is white noise
His chest is stinging
He loves it and doesn’t care he wants more
And out of the bloom
In comes his mate with some magic mushrooms!
All of a sudden, the trip goes south
He needs fresh air, he’s scared
He doesn’t know he sits in death’s chair
Suddenly, a searing pain hits he chest
He can’t breathe, He’s going into cardiac arrest
His final thought turn to his mother and brother
Who will care for them? As his breathe is smothered
Everything goes black, the overdose
He’s swallowed, makes his body hollow.
Believe that your life is a good life even if you don’t think it
Believe that your life is suited to you
Believe that you will find someone in your life
Believe that you will find a career
Believe that you are talented at something
Believe that your life isn’t pointless
Believe you will live a happy life
Just believe in yourself.
Are you willing to give up?
To be the one who is called a failure
Keep your head up high
Don’t let them tell you
You are special in your own way
Don’t let them tell that you can’t
Let their hate inspire
Monday morning the alarm goes off
Don’t want get out of bed
The anxious moment you walk in the door
To see the bully awaiting
Somebody waiting to put you on the floor
Somebody waiting to make a joke out of you
For the end of the day you wish and pray
that Monday morning wont happen again.
The truth is, that it’s not easy
The truth is, you can’t be fat, black, smart or gay
The truth is, you can’t be you without being judged
The truth is, some people can’t handle the truth
The truth is, the most successful people are the ones who fought this sick reality
The truth is, there’s hope
The truth is, there is someone that is there for you
The truth is, f**k the truth.
Kyle Keeley & Jade Higgins
I have a fear for the life when I finish school. I have an idea what I want to do but I don’t know if I want to do it for the rest of my life. I think the question life is asking me is to much as I’m 16 and I will be doing this profession for the rest of my life. I have no interest in going to college, and all my parents want me to do is not just to go, but to continue on after my degree to get a doctorate. To be honest I have no interest in growing up.