You might things are getting worse,
In fact it’s getting better,
There’s going to be times when you feel sad,
And people make you feel like your nothing,
It’s something everybody has deal with at least once,
But you have to push through and keep going.
Home is where the heart is
The heart break and acting fake
The energy it takes
You smile to cover it
But can a smile cover heart break
When it aches to fake happiness
Society is broken,
We live in a society where
Drugs and drink are the only relief
Maybe I’m misunderstood
Or my words aren’t being spoken
But believe me I’m provoking
Society will always be broken
Emma Louise Kavanagh
In November I still remember
The day I had a match and got messed up
But never gave up I was reared by my father alone
And was thought never to give up
One thing he has always said is
The world isn’t all sunshine and dreams
It will beat you to your knees
And keep you there
So either you stay down and be beaten
Or stand up and fight your way back
I grew up with a fighting family
It was rare to see a normal and peaceful day.
My mam and dad went through really rough times when I was born
But before that my older sister saw normal and peaceful days.
When I grew up as a child I had my sad and happy moments
But it was still challenging most days for 12 years.
With the loss of family nothing got easier.
Three languages a day
It gets boring
Writing down notes
College in two years
Life seems wasted
School most of our lives
Education leads us
To better places
That’s were education takes us
Game of Warriors
We are going to war, but the guns are absent.
Wooden sticks in hand that’s what’s happening,
We are going to war, but the loud bangs are different.
The wizz of a leather ball instead of a bullet,
We are going to war, blood sweat and tears come pumpin.
The loud roars as you enter the battle field,
But to you it’s nothing but silence.
80,000 spectators on look as the battles commence,
Only one team will walk out this fence as victors,
As they escort the McCarthy cup back to their local pub.
Nobody understands the sacrifice of a fighter,
We miss births, parties, baptisms.
Anything that will take up our time to what?
To perfect ourselves then go home stare in the mirror
Or lose a fight and still not be happy with our progress,
Thinking today is the day where you find your infinite potential,
Drop all your fears excuses and demons
Only to repeat the same cycle.
But when you do it,
When you find that golden moment whilst training,
That moment where you executed what you practised perfectly,
The feeling is indescribable,
So all that training the past amount of time you’ve done
And you have your body, your veins are bulging
Your muscles are huge
But the progress you notice is the practise moment you executed?
Athlete of Anxiety
They say that pulling a muscle or breaking a bone
Was the scariest thing to happen to an athlete
But for me it was the feeling i got in my stomach,
Not butterflies but the anxiety curdling like bile.
Not the normal nervousness you get standing on the starting line
Because you are afraid you may not win
But because you feel like a fool if you don’t place in your race,
Even if you don’t finish it,
All eyes on you.
Or is it just the anxiety shutting you down,
Standing beside your dad wearing a cap and NYPD jumper
Saying “you can’t do this, you can’t finish this,
You will never be good enough”.
While your dad stands there with a smile
That is showing a hint of nervousness too.
The bile now rising to the surface,
Ready to spring up but instead of sprinting when the gun shot goes
Tears spring to your eyes and you dry heave the anxiety out of your system.
The only place you run to is out of sight to your father’s arms,
Out of sight, sputtering to him
“I couldn’t do it, I’ll never be good enough”
Anxiety is a person.
For me, anxiety is an athlete
And I race it every day.
Hurling, the game of triumph and tragedy,
The best game we’ve ever brought to humanity,
Fast paced, aggressive and not for the faint hearted,
The keeper’s job is to make sure the goal is guarded
Honestly to be a keeper you have to be tapped
Mess with the full back you’re gonna get slapped
Football is the game I play but it’s not just a game,
One bad injury and you’ll never be the same.
We claim our passion but the aim is fame.
At least that’s what the others say,
Jealousy and hate towards the game we play.
I’m sick of these losers always chatting crap,
Leave a bare man in the hospital, screaming for a med kit.
Victory Royale leave no one alive,
Come round salty springs on a 125.