This Wealthy Bourgeois Oligarchy
This wealthy bourgeois oligarchy
This plastic democracy
A totalitarian monarchy
Spitting laws and legislation
Set by the 1% of rich
Is America’s b****
The needle of consumerism
Riddles the vein
Rich piggy politicians
With the world in chains
Where zero is what
You can buy or sell
And life on earth
Is as it is in hell.
I am a dead tree
Uninteresting, dying low in the broken down sky
But you see, you never looked past the bark
You never looked me in the eye
Or past the outline of the heart.
What do you know about me?
You don’t get it, people are like doors
All you need is the key
To get to know people like me
I walk around, alone in the crowd
But you try to avoid me when I’m right around the bend.
But in reality I’ve done nothing to offend
When I’m not around you, you say I’m the plague
But really your statement is quite vague
So in reality you’re not a bully
You just never knew me fully
So next time you encounter a locked door,
make sure you look for the key
because in reality you never really knew me.
Concrete Walls and Classrooms
The oppressive rabid beast,
That puts you down and holds you there,
Gives you what you need the least.
You deserve much more, you hear it scream.
You’ll never get better, if better can’t dream.
It’s just a project they said, a lifetime of nightmares,
Now it’s a higher institution, an asylum, a death bed.
A production line of knowledge, forced into your head.
But mad beasts never tame
And production lines will always be the same.
Draven Wright Lee
War, war never changes
Not once throughout all the ages
The technology’s become better
But it still hasn’t changed
Soldiers sending out a letter
To their family
Everything is still unhinged
People out there losing their sanity
Their fighting but sometimes they forget what for
Fighting alongside squad number 24
Fighting against the otherside
Killing mothers and fathers
While families hearing their brothers’ died
Then the news reaches the headquarters
And no one gives a damn
They were just another soldier
Just like John, Kyle and Abraham
The battlefield is littered with dead soldiers
People who will never see their children again
20, 19 and 18 years old
Their mothers crying but then again
This world can be so cold
But then when the war ends
20 or 30 years later
Those countries will be friends.
Ducking and Weaving
In and out
In and out of trouble
Of luring support
Of being aware
Of being bullied
Of wanting it
I do want it
A Little Baby
12 months later, it’s about time.
She never thought she’d see those double lines.
She goes to her mam,
To tell the good news.
While her husbands on the phone, telling his parents too.
Will it have her eyes or his nose?
A boy or a girl?
Will it play piano, will it dance, or will it hold a hurl?
Now she’s 6 months in, the bump begins to show.
They’re so excited! But little do they know.
She goes in for a check-up, but things don’t go as planned.
She sits nervously in the room
While her husband’s holding her hand.
The nurse comes back in, a weird look in her eyes,
They didn’t find a heartbeat, the couple break down and cry.
The car journey home has never been longer,
Their pain and their anger, has never been stronger.
They go home, sit in silence,
Their future, ripped before their eyes.
Their little baby. Gone. And they wonder, God, why?
She sits there broken, not a sound to be heard
No one understands, no one could see
Just how hateful and cruel they could be
And it’s not a bully nor friend or foe
Only the smart would look on and know
No it’s the one you don’t expect
The person you wouldn’t find
It’s the loving parent, the dashing bride
Most beautiful women you’d ever meet
Loved and adored by all
She’s plays her game so very well
You yourself wouldn’t make that call
First appearances and you’d have your doubts
That little girls all have such big mouths
You don’t see what happens behind closed doors
You don’t know the half of it there’s so much more
But you just don’t know you just can’t see
You couldn’t guess the shits she’s seen
Remember this next time they might not be so sweet
For even the wolf was dressed like a sheep
Trying to impress with the way I dress.
My grades at school just weren’t cool.
I’m trying my hardest but sometimes it’s never enough.
Sometimes things can be rough.
I just want to stay at home in bed,
Deal with the thoughts in my head.
Always told to be something more,
But sometimes less is more.
I’m quiet about my sexuality,
But in reality it’s about morality.
Trying to open up about my secret,
But then my mum tells me to beat it.
I’ve learned acceptance isn’t something you earn.
Give it or take my mum refuses to learn.
I always thought I’d be happy,
But know I’m depressed, angry and lonely.
I know now to keep my mouth shut,
Or else the guilt could make me cut.
I’m sorry for such a depressing poem,
I just want to be accepted at home.
I’m just waiting for that special day,
When all my worries will go away.
All every day abuses,
What is meant to be a safe place,
Is nothing but a place of hate.
Everyone sees it,
Everyone ignores it,
If it’s not happening to them,
It’s not happening at all.
They see you struggling,
But they never stop,
They’ll keep on breaking you,
So they’ll be on top.
They can’t see the scars,
So to them it’s alright.
You want it to stop,
You want it to end,
But if you say a word
You’ll rat out your “best friend”
Judgement is something we all understand.
That someone is better than another cause they had a better plan.
A plan that was elegant, fast and precise.
All because yours wasn’t as perfect, they look at you with cold eyes.
Cold words that pierce your heart enough to make you think you’re not smart enough
But deep down you know that you got the stuff.
But the journey to see yourself can be incredibly tough.
But you still got it done, your plan still worked.
No matter how good someone else is, it doesn’t decrease your own worth.
But you listen to the hate, you take it all in.
It builds up inside you till you feel your life is a sin.
You judge your every movements and every single word.
Your feelings are screaming out to the world
But you think they can’t be heard.
So you hide them and let it build until you get to the point of breaking.
Every happy moment with your friends makes you feel as if your faking.
But I promise you, you judge yourself more than your worst critic.
Some simple things start building up because you overthink it
And as that snowball roles, it gathers loads of unnecessary opinions
That will ultimately push you past the point of living.
Now trust me when I say that you’re not the only one.
There is millions of people who would rather kiss a loaded gun
And put the barrel to their head and let the flash and bang remove them.
All this because they let their own judgement abuse them.
Things get hard and sometimes we all need a little help.
But the first place to start is to start with yourself.
Now I’m sorry I must leave you with a rather dark end,
But I greatly appreciate every word of your judgement.
With its cold dreary hall,
And the blue, peeling wall.
The creaky wood stairs,
All left, no one cares.
I hear a wail from inside a room,
I’m scared, because I don’t know whom
Could have made the noise, for I came alone.
A spirit, perhaps? I should have known.
I slowly crept in through the old door,
But there’s nothing within, but a hole in the floor.
I run and kneel by the gap, and I look inside,
I feel a hard push, and I guess, that’s where I died.
For all the Women
For all the women here that are seated,
I’m sorry that you were mistreated.
For all those dicks that you have been with,
Don’t worry love is no myth.
Don’t break down and start to cry,
And the next day don’t ask them why.
Cause they don’t care about you,
And sadly there is nothing you can undue.
But don’t give up,
There will be a man who will tell you “Heads-up”.
He was 7 years old sitting at home,
At 11 his dad came home stoned off of booze.
Next day he has to go to school with a bruise.
Sitting in a class room learning about ancient Rome,
Mum staying at home horrified and paralysed.
Dad comes home feeling glorified,
Whilst both of them are demoralised,
Sad as they are being a slave
To this madman they can’t be brave.
Brad walks through his door to find an empty house,
Brad stands there paralysed.
They were brave.
Kicked out of School
Getting kicked out of school,
Cause I was breaking rule after rule.
On my typical day,
Teachers would say things that are okay.
But when I go home I’m sitting in the kitchen eating my lunch,
My da comes in and hits me a punch.
He found my stash,
20g of h***.
Dropped out at sixteen,
Then learned the streets are mean.
Every week going to rave after rave,
My life I only wish I could save.
I quit the fags,
And stopped selling 25 bags.
Got myself a nice little house,
And very loving and caring spouse.
I have been clean for a year,
And I have realised the effects of drugs are severe.
3 Days and counting,
Looking for a bash,
No need to be pouting,
Hope they don’t find the stash.
But then back we will lash;
Avoid an nGardaí’s bans
Spill that drink on my vans
Did I mention it was just coke?
Didn’t follow the plans,
Didn’t realise ‘til I had awoke
That there was going to be smoke,
I can feel my lungs caving in,
My god what a joke,
Five more at my door,
What are these lot here for?
Trying to keep it quiet,
Turning into a loud night,
“Oi, you lot, give it up”
They’re staring us down,
Hunting us like a hound,
A blue flashing light,
I run with all my might
But this just might,
Be our last fight
So let’s say goodnight.
I’m in a cell,
My phone goes off like a warning bell,
I now know what’s to come,
And my god, it won’t be fun
Every day we feel the sting,
Understanding not a single thing,
This feeling is just a dirty stain,
I’m bound to its cold dark chain,
I wonder why in my heart’s despair,
No one seems to see or care.
I can’t abide this surging pain,
Torment’s wicked hurricane
The constant needles endless ache
There is only so much I can take
You get Blamed
You get blamed for the things you didn’t even do,
But deep down they know it wasn’t really you.
They scream and shout until their face turns red,
But you’ve got other things running through your head.
You sit in silence for the rest of the day
Because there is nothing really that you can say,
To make them hear your point of view
But none of this is even new.
Maybe this is an ordinary day
But this really isn’t the way,
To communicate with ones so dear
But it now makes everything clear.
My guinea pig is Buddy,
He is actually really chubby,
His body is white,
His face is black, white and tan.
He has tiny ears that peak up,
When he hears the bag of food crumple.
He can’t sit still,
He jumps on his house,
He runs around his cage.
He lies on your chest,
And could sit there for days.
He chews on his own house,
For hours on end,
Through the night he nibbles,
Waking us all in bed.
Mammy never wanted a guinea pig in the house,
She told dad she’d kill him if he bought a ‘mouse’ home,
But sure he isn’t a mouse he’s a guinea pig,
So she can’t get mad,
Buddy the pig has a nickname,
We call him ‘Pig’ or ‘Wig Wig’,
He always pees on mammy,
But she loves him still.
My guinea pig is really funny,
We wouldn’t trade him for money,
Are worth more than that.
I hate school,
They just think you’re a tool
I’m searching to be great
And they just say wait
I don’t get why they won’t facilitate
The fact is I might just be great
Just because you can’t see it right now
Don’t mean I won’t be late
When you score a last minute winner on FIFA
You think you’re as famous as Wiz Khalifa
The crowd goes wild
But the reality is you’re beating a 13-year-old child
With words that can only be described as grim
He reports you
What do you do?
No talking to your friends
It’s like your life ends
You get your membership back
Your life is finally back on track
Then the next day
Just as you get ready to play
Something ruins your day
You got your ban back
What a kick in the sack.