Corridors full of muffled whispers,
Looks been thrown that give you shivers.
Being judged by the way you dress,
The girls you hang out with,
Desperately trying to impress
All those girls…
All those girls who live in an artificial society,
Where we have to be flawless and perfect,
No such thing as variety.
A world where we are clones of each other,
A world that is mean, but gets tougher and tougher,
By those girls that exclude you, ridicule you, mock you,
Those girls that prejudge you, betray you, talk about you.
Those girls that are desperate to fit in that world,
And, if you don’t make it,
Trust me, you will smile and fake it
And pretend through rose-tinted glasses
That everything is good…
In this fake world we call “sisterhood.”
Born in a country where pregnancy is forced
Where Catholicism and pro-life values are endorsed
Where the life of an unborn fetus is cherished more than its mums
When after birth no one cares what they become
Where quality of life is seconded to creation
When human rights and equality get lost in translation
When miracles and happiness dominate our screens
Who cares when our expectant mothers are only teens
It’s time to throw away the oppression of our faith
To stand up, rise up and choose to repeal the eighth
In this day and age, why is the world filled with so much hatred?
Nations going head to head,
Instead of world peace they’re raging.
In this exact moment, there is so much discrimination,
And old day generations saying
“It will sort itself out it takes time, be patient”.
But it’s not and I won’t stand for it
2017 and the western countries are getting better
And the others are getting poorer,
What does that say about ourselves?
Complaining about our first world problems,
These jeans don’t look right, this top is too tight,
I don’t like that…
Change the channel, but that’s just it,
Change. Have we not learned from the past?
Change is the answer and I know that this time it is going to last.
We are obsessed with modern technology,
We are obsessed with our hair,
We are obsessed with looking perfect,
But most of all we are obsessed with fear.
We fear today, we fear tomorrow, we fear whatever comes next.
But most of all we fear the day that never comes next.
Where do we go, we don’t know,
How can life just end?
No one knows until this day comes, but do we even find out then?
They Tell You
They tell you to grow or to shut the f”*k up
To act like an adult,
Though you’re only a pup
To go out and be confident
But they control you and
Make you into a person
The world can look up to.
Not who you want or the person you are
But a person who fits their ideal repertoire
They tell you to grow up but expect you to do
What they say or what they want
Though you know that it’s not true,
That in truth they don’t even allow you to live!
They tell you to grow up
The next you’re only a kid
You can do what you want
When you’re older they say
But for now you’re just teenage
So get out of the way
Life will one day be over
With no stories to tell
They tell you to grow up
Then send you to hell
Go wash the dishes,
Rinse out your clothes,
Clean every room
In the house I suppose,
Locked in those four walls
That you call ‘home’,
Surrounded by family
But always alone
It seems like another
Cinderella to me.
They tell you to grow up,
But just how you can’t see.
Stubborn, stress and suffering,
Boys, heartbreaks and pressure,
The darkness in life taking up our bodies,
Depression, suicidal, cold weather.
Afraid to speak out at home,
Afraid to be pulled at, shouted and hit,
‘Fight back you bastard’ you think,
But you’re afraid to f***ing commit.
Fifteen pressured into sex,
‘No, no’ she says. ‘No’, she cries.
‘No’, she screams, but she’s grabbed, raped.
She screwed up, she didn’t fight,
It’s all her fault, she’s a slut,
Insecure and self-conscious,
The darkness in life encouraging her to cut.
Yes, life is convoluted,
But we always have to fight,
We are brave and we are women,
Be brave and come to light.
If the sun is burning,
It will continue to shine,
And when a plant is dying,
It refuses to resign.
If the clouds are full,
They pour out for everyone to see,
And if our hearts are broken,
They will still pump 1, 2, 3.
The darkness in life,
Constantly knocking at your door,
Don’t open it keep fighting,
Be strong and stay ashore.
I walk into school,
Hear another story of something that
I didn’t do.
But other people don’t believe that,
They all just think I’m an immature brat.
It’s happened before it’s not the first time,
That I’ve been accused, without committing the crime.
What I’ve done I don’t know
Is it just for their conversation to flow?
They need this gossip, it keeps them sane,
If they looked at themselves,
They would die in shame.
Maire Fitz, Abbie Biggane, and Kate Mc
Where is our Limit
To see fear in others eyes is almost a routine
But most of the time there’s a fear to intervene
Every problem is a secret nothing will get out
But we see the hurt and we still seem to doubt
We’ve all felt lonely we’ve all felt scared
We’ve all been put in a situation that we know no one will care
Or are they just obsessed with their hair?
Clothes and make-up it’s all just an image
The question with society is
Where is our limit?
I can picture him now,
His beautiful face with that unusual stripe midway down his face,
And that cute little snip just on his soft little nose.
Those adorable eyes that glitter and shine.
What a lucky girl I am to call that boy mine.
He’s a very lucky boy to be where he is today.
They did not declare him to race they declared him for meat instead.
Beautiful young horse, no chance yet in life,
I could just not let him go.
October 2016, the ninth to be exact,
He arrived in the yard with his head sticking out from that box.
A weak poor angel he was, never felt love before,
But this was about to change, he was now in his best home.
I christened him cooper, it suited him so well,
A thoroughbred he is, just like who he’s named after,
Bryan Cooper, the Gigginstown stud star.
But Coopers’ only a baby, just three years old.
Only one rider to enjoy his stride.
He’s as green as the grass that lays outside
I was warned, but I didn’t care, i had just saved a life.
A brand-new rug he got, to keep him safe and warm
It was my first gift of love I had given him.
Many coins and notes later and one slight injury sustained,
Cooper is now loving life and for that he cannot be blamed.
The bond my best friend and I have is one I cannot explain
It’s a feeling that gets me through tough times and made me who I am today.
Eating for Hunger?
Chicken, a delicacy enjoyed by millions.
Which kind is best? we’ve all got our different opinions.
Some like wings, some like breast,
Some cover theirs with orange zest.
Orange chicken? What madness!
Only nuggets can end my sadness.
Eat some chicken and you will not worry,
As it’s usually accompanied by tikka or curry.
But when the snackbox is empty and the chicken’s at its end
Your broken heart you will still have to mend.
I was a quiet child with a wild mind,
A brain of paint splatters and heroic tales and sweet melodies
Kept on a leash like a black guard dog
Sitting lonely in fenced-in gardens
Just out of reach of freedom.
At 14 the music school set up in my town
On the first day of summer camp I sat with my 99 quid Lidl guitar
And observed the crowd there: kids who knew
How to play the orchestra like a game of chess
And were born with an instrument in their arms.
They had melodies in their head too,
And I soon found that we had common interests
And laughed and picked up new instruments
And played show tunes together and dreamed of
Touring the world and changing it too.
I picked the trombone as my first choice of an instrument
And I sat in the brass section, taking everything in,
The sweet smell of spit and slide oil and ancient sheet music,
And then her. Skinny jeans and hair the colour of espresso,
And a black-and-white piano-like jumper that was rolled up at the elbows.
She was Grade five. I had just started. She played the melody
To The Great Escape, and The Good, the Bad and the Ugly,
But there was only good in her soul. Sweet coffee-tainted breaths
Transformed to shrill fanfare by pure skill and a one grand instrument,
I got her snapchat name and promised to keep in touch.
Fast forward to March 2 years later,
Our orchestra was due to play at a festival in Galway.
I was Grade 3 trombone, but I played clarinet since September,
Our bus stopped in Limerick and then all over again. Her.
Stripes and coffee and pure talent and beauty squeezed into
A teenage girl, I had grown taller than her since we last met.
She sat beside me on the bus and then in the practice room
We shared a bag of dried mango and talked about music
And life and love. And she told me that she was straight.
And in that moment, it all collapsed. But in that moment, we
Were rushed on stage to play, together.
In front of hundreds sweet melodies filled the air
Spilled from the minds of kids with music in their brains.
Me and her both had symphonies in our hearts,
But she was playing the melody,
And I was just the second clarinettist in the background.
Where I’m From
The town where I’m from is a screwed-up place,
Full of drunks and druggies pushing buggies
Looking for the benefit from their screwed-up mistake,
Once they get their money they forget about the buggy,
Then look at the next lonely junkie waiting for their new mistake,
The kids run into the messed-up room crying ‘mommy, mommy wake up’,
But left alone, it was a stupid overdose.
Kiara Sheridan and Megan Dillon O’Toole
I am a weirdo, I’m g with it
If you’re not g with yourself as a weirdo
Here is some tips, just call me your hero
1. Be chill
2. Be Yourself!!!!
3. See yourself as more than a weirdo and more of you
4. Like your one from the Garnier ad (and my Mam) ‘You’re worth it’
5. I love you so you should love you
Xoxo gossip weirdo
Maeve Ryan and Molly Kennedy
On the way downtown looking for some ID
Saw william kid looking tidy
Come mere I want ya I said
“Naw you’re an inbred!!”
Wanna go drifting
Maybe some shifting
He was too busy lifting
On a mission with ambition
I’ll take your beour and say no more x