St. Mary’s College, Arklow, Co. Wicklow

When I Was Young

When I was young I believed that fairies were real

And that they lived in these flowers outside my house.

When I was young I would get my Mam to check

Under my bed to make sure there were no monsters.

But now I hardly believe in anything anymore.

Now, the monsters are real

But they’re not under our beds.

They’re in society, people, and in our heads.

We strive to be something we’re not,

We’re so brain washed into trying to be perfect that

Our beliefs are dulled and shut down,

Except now all we see are humans but no humanity.

Wasn’t life beautiful when you believed?



I remember the arguments, morning till night,

Waiting for pure fatigue to end the fight.

I was just six, and loved you both dearly,

Knowing that you both wanted the best for me, really.

You moved away when I was twelve.

Finally, peace. She told me it was your fault.

Not a subject into which I would delve,

And our father-daughter relationship came to a halt.

But we still saw each other every Wednesday.

We drove somewhere, making small talk to drown out the quiet.

I remember the last time you picked me up.

You had to stop, complaining of pain. And I didn’t buy it.

Twenty minutes later and you hadn’t come out

Of the petrol station bathroom you had gone into.

I crept in, your not responding turned my call into a shout

And an ambulance soon came, trying to rescue you.

But they didn’t. And you’d died.

And soon I realised

That for the past three years I’d ignored your love.

And I remembered those moments which made you my dad

And I hoped you forgave me from above.

She still mentions you. Still shames your name.

Can’t do much but nod.

But I’ll remember the guilt I felt that day,

Realising I’d never fix our relationship, so flawed.

Aibhilín Crangle

Little Green and White Bastards

Depression, is a funny thing to, explain to your grandmother of an entirely different generation.

Once you’ve plucked up the courage to, with a cuppa in your hands you feel it, the sense of burning in the back of your throat as you back track trying to start a different conversation.

But she catches you, with a glimmer in your eye, as you try, to quickly brush it off, but she smiles, she knows, she knew before you, she was miles, ahead of you, how could you the no she didn’t know?

This is easier, than you’ve ever imagined, for once people aren’t looking at you cause you’ve got a different fashion, instead of buying black leather jackets, you’re on Prozac, to try keep you from bad habits.

Your mother, is a very different person now, tip-toeing around, you trying to make life easier but she’s not.

These pills don’t make you who you are, for you’re not who you are while you’re under their effect, like a cigarette, you’re high for five minutes, then it’s gone, leaving you in the state you were in before you took the bastards on.



Overtime by A at St. Mary’s College, Arklow.

Overtime, she has learned to dab away her tears so as not to smudge her makeup.

Overtime, she has found a way to smile and mask the pain that tears her up inside.

Overtime, she has grown to laugh at the comments which break away pieces of her ever-shrinking self esteem.

Overtime, she has learned ways to evade suspicions of the illness which consumes her.

Overtime, she has learned to care for others to avoid her own struggles.

Overtime, she has abandoned all expectations of respect.

Overtime, she has become dependent on the words of others to define herself.

Overtime, she has become moulded by society into an inoffensive character.

Overtime, she has taught herself to look, act, be normal.

Overtime, she has abandoned her true self for fear of being ridiculed, or worse, ignored.



I’m surrounded by slut shaming,

Bitchy naming, body framing

And unnecessary blaming.

Your gender determines your destiny,

But what you don’t know is the

Rest of me.

So what? I kissed two boys last week.

You’re one to talk, Sex Freak.

Standing up for myself is no violation.

I’m doing it to eliminate female discrimination.

It’s now time to draw the line.

Hopefully I will do this through rhyme.

Caoimhe, Natalia, Eve, Sadhbh & Lucy


We are under so much pressure

To try to become better

Some people are so underrated

It starts to get you frustrated

Whether you’re being judged on your grades

Or judged by your age

We live in such a horrible generation

People cutting themselves for that killing sensation

When killing yourself is the only solution

When you just can’t listen to the noise pollution

Shaunagh Kinch


I am from Kildare,

Where I was born and raised

In foster care.

It’s a really hard life

Growing up without your mother and father.

Sometimes it bothers me, sometimes it doesn’t.

When I was just two years old,

My brother came to live with me.

We shared many life memories

And had lots of fun times and bad times together.

I’ve been in three different foster homes.

This one’s in Arklow, which I’ve been in for eight years.

Sometimes I feel like crying into shreds of tears.

Then my dad was on the drink

And became an alcoholic.

My brother and I didn’t see him until last year.

We still don’t see him.


Then I lost a heart, a soul,

And even my favourite darling brother.

He moved into different foster care and then a children’s home.

Until last year I lived with him all my life,

Which just ruined my life because it’s just like

He never even existed.

Becky Coleman

Desk Sentence

Since the age of five I was told, “You’re the smart kind”.

Looking at my parents with a knowing head bob

And a self-satisfied smile

Meaning their best but failing to help,

My teachers setting me on the circular train tracks of life.

With all the lies in the book, they’ll try to clean you up

Because to them you’re a hard drive to be filled.

School, college, job, marriage, kids, retirement, death

Rinse, repeat.

What are you running from? You could be a doctor? A lawyer? A teacher!

I’m running from what I see as a death sentence.

A desk sentence.

Shackled to a job I hate ‘cos I let my superiors dictate what it is a smart kid should want.


Not the Best Feeling in the World

Not the best feeling in the world

Yet I don’t want to be here

Everyone wondering, everyone watching

It’s a terrible feeling that I’ve been keeping

But I just can’t tell because I’ll get too unwell.

To even do the normal everyday things is a stressful struggle

Going to school

Talking to people

But all that I feel is that awful feeling.


I put a big smile on to pretend I’m okay but really inside I’m an anxious mess

I wish I didn’t over-analyse,

I wish I wasn’t nervous,

I wish I didn’t care,

That’s what my anxiety does to me

It’s not nice but all I’m going to do is fight


Stupid Things You Say to Us

“Who are you wearing the make-up for?”

It’s not for you, it’s for me.

“Your bra is showing.”

God forbid! Someone call Victoria, her secret’s out.

“What is she wearing?”

I wasn’t aware I had to dress to please you.

“That’s not very ladylike.”

But it’s okay for you to do it?

“But you’re a girl.”

Congratulations! You noticed.

“Is it that time of the month?”

Cause I’m telling the truth, that makes me a bitch?

“You’re good. For a girl.”

You’re pretty naïve considering it’s the 21st century

“Do you watch sports for the game or for the men?”

Are you trying to be stupid or does it come naturally?

We can’t all succeed if half of us are held back.

Emily Keenan,  Amy Gavin,  Emma McGeary & Amy Nolan


I’m from nowhere

With scattered memories

Of a place I call ‘home’

I’m more from here than there, but I don’t want to be

It’s not a home, it’s a house

A glorified bus shelter, a stop off,

Waiting for something better



We are a messed up generation.

From lads being pricks

To always thinking about their dicks.

From girls being twats

To only wanting one prat.

From “friends with ben”

To never speaking again.

From “it’s between me and you”

To who else knew?

From “I love you”

To “actually f**k you.”

From me and you

To “is she in our relationship too?”

Aoife Murphy


Arklow Town such a kip of a place,

Every girl, every boy, known as a disgrace

Girls with their see through leggings and camel toes

Lads in their f**kboy pants only looking out for bros

All they want from girls is their bit

Really? That’s not who you’ll marry you twit

You’ll be walking around thinking you’re a pimp

The classy girls just think you’re a gimp


All you boys seem to do is fuck girls around

I’d love to beat you six feet underground

You’ll pull all the girls like something off Geordie Shore

A girl does the same and you call her a whore?


St. Patrick was supposed to have driven the snakes away

But I still come across them everyday

Us girls aren’t much better letting ourselves get hurt

From that one over there to the next fucking flirt


When sex becomes nothing but just something to do

You know there was nothing going on for the two of you

You open your legs as much as the front door

Getting names for us all like bitch, slut and whore

You go to his for some Netflix and chill

Nine months later it’s the hospital bill

You think it’ll be okay and he’ll stay

But next thing you know he’s walked away

You’ve walked away and think that’s okay

What if someone does this to your daughter one day?

You’ll never be more than that.

Emily Mitchell, Shona Dillon, Jessie Egan & Orlaigh Kelly

Like A Girl

“Like a girl” they say

Back then I would have walked away

“Like a girl” what does that mean?

To throw, to hit, run like a girl

In modern society it’s taken as an insult

That we’re not able to take or throw a punch

It’s time to make a change as we all know

Women do reign, strong multi-tasking, leaders of the world

Whether you’re a Katy Taylor fighting a championship match

Down to a simple school girl, trying to keep a healthy balance between getting the A and B grades to looking a certain way,

To be captain of the football team.

To be the class head ‘queen bee’

So now think twice when you say “like a girl”

I no longer see it as an insult but a compliment I yearn.



Everything we do is judged

Which makes us hold a grudge

But nobody makes a budge

To stop our generation from judging

Our society causes our anxiety

And give reasons to hate our society



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