St Louis Community School, Cordarragh, Kiltimagh, Co. Mayo

What People Teach Us

When people search for meaning,
They usually start with other human beings.
But the only problem with this,
Is that there’s usually people we miss.
We don’t know that we’re looking for someone specific,
Until we realise we have a list to tick.
We start off with their looks,
Instead of what’s their favourite book.
We examine all their features,
Because that’s what people teach us.

Emer O Brien

Breaking Glass

The hurt I felt
Teardrops shatter like glass
Into my sunken face
Cheeks so swollen
Tumescent face

The hurt I felt
With each pound
On top of each gained pound
That unmistakable sound
The swallowing ground
The wails of a child
The untamed wild
A fraudulent smile

The hurt I felt
When they said things like

‘You’ve messed up’
‘Grow up’
‘Stuck in a rut
Thunder struck’

The hurt I felt
When you left me there
On a wing to a prayer
You hope it would work
Your final solution
A nice institution
Teardrops fall
Like shards of broken glass
Faster than I can do jumping jacks
In the dead of the long cold night


Autumn Leaves

Leaves that burn in fire,
Refer to blood and rubies.
Drops as nature forces it
Off the branch and to the ground.

Leaves that grew to cold,
That remind everyone else of bacteria infested dirt,
But reminds me of the place where flowers grow.

Leaves that are more vibrant than the sun,
That fall like Citrine jewels
Golden rain that melts on top of the ground

Seán Gleeson

Her Reality

Guys are so impressed to see her
Knock back whiskey as if it was water
Her choice of drink defines her?
Other girls gossip as they sip 7 Up from a straw,
Judging her ways,
Not recognising her circumstances,
That brought her back to the bar,
Waiting for her dreams to finally drown in the glass.
She holds with strong arms but weak wrists,
Each sip a cry for help,
Nobody can hear.
Every time a bartender shouts: “last call”
She can’t help but shake,
This darkness is better than her reality,
Her nightmare when she is awake.
People whisper, “I’m ruining my glory years”,
For they only see the whiskey,
Never the tears.

Sinead Comer


Clip our Wings

We sit in class and wait for break
The earth beneath us starts to shake
We learn about irrelevant things
They fill our minds but clip our wings
I feel awful because I hate this place
Learning how we have become lost in space
We are judged because of who we are
We break things because we’ve gone too far



Why Things Happen

I was never the best looking,
The fittest or the funniest.
I was smart enough at the subjects I liked.

The past 3 years have been hard on me
I lost two people I loved you see.

Two people who gave me so much.

Food, money, love and support,
They helped me be who I am.

When my Grandmother passed
It hurt greatly
But in the months prior she was diagnosed
With motor neuron disease.

I knew that she would die.

Two weeks before she left us
A nurse told me that I was all she spoke of.

At her wake, a close friend of hers
Told her how proud Granny was of me.

All I could think of was
Why do things happen the way they do?

Why do things happen the way they do?

Arron Hughes

Looking In

You always want to be the best,
For people to comment on everything you do.
To be in with the popular people or for them to notice you,
But in the end, you know that you’re an outsider,
Looking in from the outside,
What’s the matter with me?
You go home and look in the mirror
If only I had this, or changed that, or
Looked like someone, or be something,
But in the end, you’re not, and you
Sometimes just have to accept that
You’ll always be an outsider looking in,
No matter how hard you try.



16 people think their
16 years were wasted.
16 people in a class.
(But why does no one like me?)
16 ours of study to pass
16 exams
So I can go to college
And then 16 people
Will mutter I’m stupid
For not doing what I hate because
“Hey, you’ll change your mind…”
No one understands me.
I’m on my own,
I don’t fit in
I never fit in
Is it my fault?
Maybe if I try harder
(They know you’re trying too hard)
So don’t say anything
(It could be worse)
(And no one wants to hear what you say anyway…)

Fleur Griffin


My Name

My name is a word no one ever speaks
My face is a blur in the background
Of everyone who peaks
The loneliness sets deep in my soul
While the popular kids pass by in a stroll
The quietness, the loneliness, the pain
It all gets too much
But the tears are held in
Until one day the feelings arrive
No longer held in
When all falls to pieces
Like an engine increases
The tears go unnoticed
But still they fall drip by drip
Until no longer can I be
A person who gets noticed


It’s Just A “Phase”

He goes home for comfort,
But only gets war,
Between his parents b****ing,
And his sister sniffing, looking to score.
When he goes to his parents they say
“It’s just a “phase.”
So instead he turns to the new craze.
Small and white,
Powerful yet light,
As soon as you take it, you’re like a kite.
When he goes to school,
He’s labelled as un-cool.
He sits alone and reads about Al Capone,
While others take pictures of him on their phones.
After all,
It’s just a “phase”.

Edward Tyson

True Love

On the summer’s mornings,
Or the winter’s night’s.

On the dry fields of May,
Or the wet mud baths of November.

During the sun in spring,
Or in the driving rain in autumn.

We do this all because,
This is football.

Sean Murphy

My Story

6th October 2017

I was told I had cancer
It is treatable
I cried and got on with it
That’s life
It throws you a rock
And aspects of you
Have to stop
But stop I will not
I will fight
Fight to take flight
Soon I will be cured
And I’ll be assured
That I’ll be ok

Anna Mcloughlin

It’s Really Not

In school he’s acting cool and tuff
But at home he has to deal with his own stuff
His mother is crying
His father is dying
In everyone’s eyes his life is perfect
But really it’s not
His life isn’t perfect,
It’s really not



I have a friend called Amy,
She sings like Maria Carey.
I have a friend called Anna,
She likes listening to Rihanna.
I have a friend called Ciara,
She dances to Shakira.
I have a friend called Michelle,
She smells like Adele.
I am Aoife,
And I dance to them all in Ibiza!


Every Night

Every night the craic is had,
The boys go mad,
The jokes are bad,
The creamy porter flows.

The pints are skulled,
The birds are pulled,
True colours out for show.

At closing time,
Down the chipper,
A doner kebab
And chicken dippers.

Few slaps are thrown,
Away the lads now,
Home alone.

Joe Brennan