Eternal Unknown Book
Last year I saw a book.
It was resting on a small table
on the far side of the room
from where I was sitting.
I didn’t know whose book it was.
I didn’t know what it was called.
My eyes could not decipher
the blurry markings on the cover.
The only thing I could make out
was the first page.
To this day, I think about that book.
What was inside it? What was it about?
Did it have pictures or poems?
Maybe it did. Maybe the book
was about giant spaceships
of impossible geometry
journeying to parts of space unknown.
Maybe it was.
But for now,
Unless by some great twist of fate
we cross our paths again,
the only thing I’ll ever know
about that book upon the table
was that the first page was green.
Although they may be old
They still can smile
And although they may not smile
Their eyes still try
And if you really understood
Maybe you would
“It’s Just a Phase”
She’s only sixteen years old and battling her own mind
She’s told she’s normal and standing in a long line
Of helpless teens struggling to find their own way
Her life is blinded by this terrifying new phase.
She doesn’t want to admit that there’s something wrong
She’d feel pathetic, she knows she’s independent and strong
But sometimes seeking help is the biggest strength one can have
And that loss of control may be a strength in itself.
I am weird, I’m a strange person
People walk past me, unknowing that I’m hurtin
I tell my friends that I have a disease and how I feel
They have no idea what it is, they think it’s not real
I tell them “Yes, it is! It’s called neurofibromatosis!”
They say “Really, This again? Just get over this!”
But how can I get over something I had since birth?
Get over what I’ve been bullied for and how much it hurt?
I can honestly say, I’ve lost count after nineteen
After that number there’s no point on fighting
I tell them, I’m awkward, can’t talk to anyone
I fall at the first hurdle, it hurts to get it wrong
My mind’s wired a different way to everyone else around
So I might seem strange, but it’s not autism I’m talking about
And It’s made me feel alone for ages
because I know there’s no hope to change it,
My nerves are missing a key feature.
So I get tend to get hurt way easier.
And it’s always made feel left out,
The way people pick me out of the crowd,
They say I stupid, They say I’m weak,
They know I’m the victim that they always seeked!
Even the teachers now, are giving me special treatment,
But not to any others, like it’s our special secret!
My mind separates from the others.
When I try to consternate my mind just wonders
People call me lazy when I’m trying my hardest
Guess I’ll never active being the smartest
N.F assisted me in becoming a poet
Because I feel deeply but I just struggle to show it
I care for those around me though I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell people
So I wrote it down, prepared my vocal sound
Then shared my opus on open ground.
Sometimes I’m not sure of my actions therefore,
I’m not sure if thought of this song or heard it before.
I’m a mess up of human being
I’m shy and not, it’s all the same feeling
And I getting stares when I’m walking down the street
Looking at me like I just killed five people and ate their meat
All of the doctors foresee
That I may get cancer and may not live to see thirty
I have learning difficulties,
I have Café au Laits
I might grow tumours because of this
All because of Neurofibromatosis.
You have decided that my punishment fits,
It doesn’t matter if I scream, punch, cry or kick
Because then I’m childish, but at least it makes you think,
That maybe this affects me, or maybe it’s unfair,
That you think its okay to trap me in my nightmare.
I’ll be unhappy but what do you care,
“I brought it on myself” and thats why I’m here,
I should be good and “sit tight there dear”
You’ve stuck me inside of the thing that I fear.
You don’t care what I’ll miss,
Though I’d write you the list,
I glance at the bracelets that are hugging my wrists
And I try to reason, an injustice like this.
The Real World
Society changes faster than people age.
And when a generation leaves school, they’re disregarded and disrespected
because “You don’t know what it’s like in the real world”
And it takes years to learn about “The Real World”
But eventually you do and suddenly,
You’re bestowing those words you despised so much upon the repressed minds of a younger generation.
Who are struggling with an entirely new set of issues, the results of this rapidly changing society.
Whilst you now have the power to make a change,
You ignore these youths in their desperate attempts to let you know;
They need help.
And focus instead on the irrelevant issues a time gone by.
But now all that’s left is a shadow of the rage you felt all those years previously.
None the less you try to fix things, but you can’t
Because you don’t remember and your resentment has waned
Because you’ve discovered that it was just as bad for everyone else.
But just because it’s bad for everyone, doesn’t mean it’s not a problem..
Gwyneth NicAidicín NíLoinsigh
They call other girls orange
when they have just as much make up around their eyes.
They roll their eyes at other people’s music tastes
when people say anything about their taste, they throw tantrums.
They say their “music saved their life”
when it’s the reason they have no life.
They hate being conformists
when they certainly conform with half the other teenagers their age.
They complain about how “weird” they are
when theres not much originality in their style at all.
They get hurt when others say these things
when they don’t realise others can be hurt by words just as easily.
They call people hypocrites for disliking their music
when they are the biggest hypocrites of all.
It’s not because I ate too sweetly,
So don’t jump to conclusions so speedily.
Daily life is six or seven syringes,
Try doing that without six or seven whinges.
All because of a Pancreas that’s faulty,
That faulty organ inside my body.
Amputations, blindness, comas and infection,
What’s worse? That or the mis-perception.
No exercise, too unfit,
Bad diet, too unhealthy.
Lazy, sluggish, too lethargic,
The misconception lacks any logic.
The struggle of young ones is hard
Especially in the school yard
When the boyos are fighting for the one girl
I can see one of them getting beat with a hurl.
The Chung love it tho’
They think they’re the number one hoe
But with the makeup piling sky high
Mados screaming pull up your feckin’ tie.