Coláiste Chroí Mhuire, Spiddal, Co. Galway

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
Am I pretty yet?

If pretty means pushing myself till sweat mingles with tears on red puffy cheeks,
Am I pretty yet?

If pretty means sticking my fingers down my throat because the scales said so,
Am I pretty yet?

Why do I have to be pretty?
Why do I have to do all these things just so you like me?
Why do I have to be skeletal-cover-girl-skinny?
To feel like you need me?
Like you want me?
Why do I need to be taught that my life will be easier if I’m pretty?
Why do little girls just like me feel like fat is ugly?

If pretty means skinny
Let me be ugly.

If pretty means skinny
Just let me be happy.


The Winding Road

As we go down the winding road
We come to a point that we all but know.
As we come to the edge of the road
We see what we had lost long ago.
Through the gates we had but entered
in the footsteps that our fathers ventured.
As we journey through this steep thin road.
We stop at the point that was foretold.
As we walk past the standing stones
We stop at a point both old and new.
Where the wind softly whispers,
We miss you.


The Girl I Used To Know

I look into the mirror, don’t recognise the face
A girl who’s under pressure treating life like it’s a race.
If you’re not in first position, what’s the point in taking part?
People judge you on how many likes you get and not the content of your heart.
They don’t see the storm that’s brewing deep inside my brain.
They only see the smiles on Snapchat, and not the girl in pain.
Society is a game, but the rules change from week to week.
You’re judged for being an extrovert and you’re judged if you don’t speak.
Your thigh gap is what defines you,
Or what size bra you wear.
Suffocating in images of photo-shopped girls,
With perfect teeth and perfect hair.
You try on clothes in fitting rooms,
And cry because you aren’t like girls in magazines.
You never question why you feel like this,
Or why your value lies in the size of your jeans.
Your hair will never be long enough,
Your frame isn’t elegant and petite.
And before you know it, even confident girls
Are watching what they eat.
You think maybe if you skip lunch today,
The dress will look good on you.
But that doesn’t solve the problem.
Eating disorders never do.
I look into the mirror
And don’t see the girl I used to know.
The one who loved herself and was happy,
That girl left long ago.

Líadh Robertson


What is trust
and what is its purpose?
Because love is a switch
You can flick at any minute
And people are fickle.

Trust is just a word to me
It really has no meaning,
Because trust is the flipside of deceiving.
Massive fights
Sleepless nights
Just thinking about torture
Reality bites
Flashbacks shivering
In the dark
The scar burns your name
On my shoulder.



Everyone makes choices, but are they the right ones?
Certain choices could have seemed to be for fun-
To you, No matter what your intentions are, remember,
Nobody likes being the last-picked member

Of a sports team every single week,
Or being mocked when you try to speak.
Sometimes the choices not made are the worst,
Making people feel like you are the first

To be excluded from conversation
And arguing with every point you’re making
Spending your childhood trying to fit in
And realising a huge part of it is missing;

Your true self.

Nobody has access to this part of you
That you could have worked so hard to redo;
Changing your unique personality
And all for the sake of popularity.

Popularity-used to define our social lives
Defined by our physical size.
These choices that we make
Can come crashing down, sending an earthquake

Along the rocky road that we walk
Eventually too afraid to even talk,
For fear of the hate that it could bring
Choices – they’re everything.



Waking up to that feeling I just can’t shift
It sits low in my stomach, a weight I’d like to lift
I’d rather people ignore me then try to comfort me
Just let my problems be my own, please just leave me be
You can make this feeling go away, believe me I’ve tried to
Just stop asking if I’m OK, it’s a problem I’m trying to get through
If I wanted to talk, I would, I know you’re trying to help
But don’t keep bugging me to tell you, I’d rather keep it to myself
I know I’m seeming bitchy, I don’t mean it that way at all
It’s just my way of dealing with things so I don’t crumble and fall
I’m trying to cope on my own; I don’t want to be a pain
I just don’t want to talk about it and I know its driving you insane
You tell me best friends should support each other, that’s the reason you ask me why
You hold my hand and wipe my eyes, and tell me not to cry
You tell me it’s OK to break and crumble to the ground
It’s a friend’s job to pick you up and help you get around
And to let you know if I ever want to talk
Yes I know you’ll always be there because you’re honestly my rock.



When the news comes,
That someone you love has died,
It makes you feel sick,
On the inside.

Like a knife to the gut,
It hurts so much,
Some cry, some don’t,
But we all feel the same way,
On the inside.

They say to think of your loved one when they were happy,
But you can’t help feeling very crappy,
They’re on your mind all the time, especially at night,
For some reason, you can’t help thinking about all this shite.

When I lost my Grandad, I was ready to die,
Please be respectful, and don’t try to pry.
When you lose someone close to you, straight out of the blue,
It ruins your day, and you’re not OK,
And you lie through your teeth, cause you’re hurting underneath,
Even after all this time, suicide is still a crime.

Everyone goes through this, it’s not easy,
No matter what they say, you won’t get over it,
You should never forget though that you can talk to anyone,
Don’t go through this shit alone.


Black Sheep of the Morning

Waking up with the sound of my alarm,
Hoping this day won’t drag on.
Mornings are the worst,
And school makes me burst,
Trying to please everyone and
Fitting in with the crowd.

All I want to do is scream,
That society is screwed up
That nobody can express themselves
Or talk about what they love.
”Like this music.”
”Wear these clothes.”
”Because otherwise,
you can’t be one of us.”



It’s strange how each day goes by,
And seven billion people experience the day from their own eye.
I pass thousands of faces from day to day
I wonder if their life has been bright or grey.
I think I always know what goes through everyone’s brain,
Is their mind really going insane?
I cant tell, I couldn’t tell and I wish I could
Can’t make dark clouds go away, not sure that I should.
You kept it hidden
While letting everyone who wanted to help you slide.
Why? Why? Why? Why?
And I never even got to say goodbye.



People think grades mean everything
But no one’s there to aid the pressure that gets to them so much,
Some take a blade to their skin for even a little control
To feel something other than pressure something freer something fresher.
But you don’t have to.
You can break the bonds that grounds you to reality and fly,
Fly away to the world inside your head
Where everything is anything be free not dead
Be whoever, it doesn’t matter.
Use your key to enter the dark closet of the mind
Where secrets are kept locked away and hidden until the end of time.
In your head it’s your rules, your way,
So light the dark room, visit it discover yourself
It’s all there in the bookshelf of the mind.
With this you could make a friend or maybe two
All of this is up to you.
No blades are needed
Because pressure doesn’t exist
It’s created in our minds
It’s false, a myth.


Voice Inside Your Head

The voice inside your head
Young people need a voice,
Sometimes it’s not their choice,
To be standing in the background,
Or not being able to say what they want,
Because they don’t want to be taunted by their peers,
As they fight through the tears,
Because they believe society has no time for them,
They feel as if they are the stem and others are flowers,
But they don’t know that they have the power,
To change the ways society sees the young people of today,
So people won’t be judged on their race religion or how much they weigh,
Someone needs to stand up and say what needs to be said,
And explain the everyone what goes on inside your head.



Little Baby Boy

Little baby boy with the bright blue eyes,
Little baby boy who is safe in the sky,
Little baby boy you are gone too soon,
My love for you still stretches as far as the moon.

Little baby boy it’s been eight years,
Little baby boy I still shed tears,
Little baby boy I wish I got a letter,
That when you got sick, you weren’t getting better.

Little baby boy I was so naïve
Little baby boy forgive me please
My Little baby angel boy
I wish I saw you sooner.

Tessa Croke

Sibling Wars

I never know what to say,
When my stupid brother gets his way
Whatever he wants, whenever he needs
My mother always seems to please.

She works all day, and sometimes nights,
But my brother always starts the fights,
He’s older now, you’d think he’d understand
But sometimes he just gets out of hand.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s not all that bad,
But when I see him being a prick, it makes me sad.
He eats all the food and farts all day long,
And treats my Mom like she’s always wrong.

Rosie Ni Dhubhghaill

You Think You Know Me

You think you know me but you don’t,
The dark secrets that this mind holds,
A clockwork mechanism missing a gear,
The consequences of thought I fear,
You cannot see it so you do not
spare a second glance,
There is nothing wrong with the way I look
Its the way I walk,
The way I dance.



I was at hospital
My face was bruised, only a little
Cuts all over my arm
No harm, no harm.

Not a tooth left in my mouth
It was all going down south
As soon as I went to Florence
I should’ve known not to wander from my parents.

Taken by a man
His name was Stan
I was a teenager
Another strange change from minor to major.



I hate a lot of things
The list goes on and on
I hope you’ll never hear it
Cuz its sure to make you yawn

At the top of that list is school
I feckin’ hate that place
It’s an absolute shitehole
And a complete waste of space

The building is falling apart
Its only a matter of time
Its been there for a hundred years
The system is a crime


My Frenemie

You’re meant to be my friend, not my enemy, not someone I secretly hate.
You’re meant to ask how my day has been and how I’m feeling, if I was up late
You’re not meant to think you’re prettier than me or smarter or superior
I know your life is tough but so is mine you just don’t ask your only thought is your own ego
You think I have time to deal with your shitty little problems
Little do you know I’ve been praying for them to happen
My grandmother has Alzheimer’s she doesn’t sleep my Dad is up with her constant ,
You wouldn’t know that I don’t tell you, because you’d change the topic back to you own bloody problems.

I don’t have the energy to deal with your boy troubles
You have a new one every five seconds after I text them to see if they like you
You treat them like shit after me and him have become friends
Now I have to ignore his texts because you’ve gone and found someone else.
The amount of times that something’s happened and you’re the last to know
I say you’re the first and ask the others to pretend
Little do you know it was because I had to tell you in the end
Sure we’re friends and sometimes your nice but truth be told your like the devil in disguise
I secretly hate you sometimes but I will never say
I don’t have the balls to tell you straight to your face.