St Marys Secondary School, Nenagh North, Nenagh, Co. Tipperary

This Unspoken Rule

There’s this unspoken rule,
That everything you do,
Fit into this box,
Or else.

There’s this unspoken rule,
That every opinion you have,
Can’t really be an opinion,
It has to comply,
Or else.

There’s this unspoken rule,
That how you act in public,
Must be like everyone else,
You must martyr yourself in mediocrity,
Cut yourself into the shape of others,
Draw yourself in this society,
Until you have no space to think different,
No air to speak with.
You must fit, follow, comply, act,
Like everyone else…

Or else.

Alison Cullinan

Christmas at Seven

An arm, leg and his dignity
Once a reckless young man
Now a crumpled figure in the corner
Squatting alone in a falling down home
No bed to sleep
No water to wash
The smell lingering round the dinner table
It’s Christmas day but I am not home
It’s Christmas day but I am not smiling


You Never Knew

Stories were told about you
You were funny
You were brave you
You were strong
But you were selfless

You left that house, unaware
Of anyone’s thoughts or feelings
You left us belongings, belongs
We didn’t need,
What we wanted was you, not some
Wedding ring and your most expensive necklace
Or a letter that said your goodbyes
We wanted you, we needed you
But I guess you never knew



I want to start drawing this picture, but I don’t know how.
No one is showing me how to hold the crayon.
Apparently I’m too young to understand how to pick it up.
However the time will come
When all these different colours will bombard me,
Thrown at my face.
A big, blank, white page.
Anxious to be marked.
Anxious to put a mark on.
But where to start?
Where to place the point of the crayon and start this line,
This long line.
It’s more like a permanent marker.
Whatever move I make, I can’t just smudge it out.
It stains.
Will I ever colour in between the lines?
Will these lines ever be filled in with beautiful and vibrant colour?
I imagine this colourful drawing.
But why is it so white right now?



It is something that affects all of us.
Something that doesn’t allow us to live our lives.
It is the constant pressure to live up to other people’s ridiculous standards
That actually don’t even exist.
We feel the need to follow and portray an image
That that our society wants us to portray,
Resulting in us not being able to express our own personality.
Express yourself, allow yourself to be different
Because the reality is that when you die,
People won’t appreciate a person spending hours on their appearance
And acting like everyone else.
They will simply appreciate the person who was kind,
Unique and expressed their real personality.


What is Normal?

Why am I here?
Why am I judged?
Why do I fear?
Why do I love?
Why do I question so many things?
Why can’t I be a normal human being?
The answer to these questions I will never know.
Why can’t I let my true self show?
What is normal?
Does it even exist?
Asking these questions, I cannot resist
What is normal?



Soccer balls and ash hurleys,
Young boys with grazed knees.
Rough and ready for the craic
Gone this far no turning back.
On the pitch, hear the roar,
Never been here before.
All the boys playing tough,
Never been a part of this stuff.
But the fear, what will they say,
Just a girl who wants to play.

Fiona Kirwan

Sit in Silence

I’m sick of this constant disturbing violence
And how most people decide to sit in silence
While there are so many people in the world suffering
Waiting for help while it’s slowly buffering
Addiction, violence and constant struggle
And a sinking feeling that their life will crumble
But all of these hardships are completely valid
And we need to realise these problems aren’t pallid


The One

He is the one I loved
He is the one I trusted
But he threw it all away
All for one kiss
I regret not facing the chance
Now I’m done
I miss the moment we had
All I want now
Is his love

Megan Donnellan

This is Where

This is where little girls are taught to obtain
And maintain society’s idea of the ‘perfect’ image.
Teach us to love ourselves rather than feed us spinach.
This is where little boys are told that they’re ‘weak’ if they cry or show time.
Everyone always seems to be stuck in motion.
This is where people spend their lives running around, but always end up nowhere.
What’s the point? Everything will always rip and tear.
This is where people are categorised into different sectors of society based on class.
You’re considered lucky if you get the ‘pass’.

Niamh Burke


The questions
Plus the frustration
Equals the anger in my mind
The need to release multiplies and multiplies
I know that I shouldn’t, but I can’t go back now
So I keep going, and the pain releases
The anger in my mind
Not just from today
But from yesterday
And the day before that
And the years and months leading up to today
Afterwards I feel deflated
I think ‘what is the point?’
And I stare and stare at the scars
That will be forevermore



The image of beauty lies
It has no wings and never flies
Straight up to your face it doesn’t have a race
It doesn’t have a pace and is not about your case
It started off so natural but now it’s like a game
No one knows it’s deeper but for now she ain’t a keeper.
The bestest of them all is only aim
Fame would be another and keep the numbers rising.
But for now new people are blind and can no longer understand the mind.

Ellen Blackwell

I Don’t Care

My two close friends always say that I don’t care.
I’d rather say ‘I just don’t care’ than to dwell.
Things are too real that some I’d rather not feels
I put on this act of screw this and screw that,
I think it’s just easier.
When I feel too deep,
It seems I’m too week,
So ‘I just don’t care’.



I feel free and can be myself
Finally I love myself
I can play the game I love most
And run freely like a ghost
I can forget about everything
And just focus on one thing
I can clear my head
Instead of running to bed
I can lose it all or have it all
Keep your eye on the ball.

Eileen Gleeson

Blinded by Life

I get blinded by life
Got stabbed in the back with the knife
People get stood on often
They do get closed in the coffin
People’s negative opinions don’t matter
Its equivalent to flying batter



Growing up waiting for the
Weekend to come before I could
See you again.
Wishing the summer holidays
Would never end.
Then it all started, and the drink
Took my place.
Along with the woman who replaces
My aunty
You raged all your drink anger
Out on my aunty.
Out of the two children and loving
Wife you once had, you have nothing left.
Instead the drink replaced us all
And we say it’s for the best.


Why Not Me?

Standing at the wall
Playing with my hurl and ball
Living in a hole
Feeling cold
I stop and think
And appreciate my life
As I watch the world
Go round!!