I’m walking through the school hall stares,
Just wishing that no one cares,
To be a teenage boy.
Oh what a joy.
If I was never to be called such names
And young boys would stop with their games
Then my enraged mind may be rid of its anxiety
I may be accepted into a fair society.
IF we were to be less cruel
And all live under a common rule
They maybe I would like to go to school.
All my Thoughts
All my thoughts die out slowly to come back into my head
Two months in a song of bleeding drakes,
Surrounded by nothing but a bunch of fakes.
They told me to “get over it” after breaking my soul,
With their hearts as black as coal.
Only wanted to make me fall
But ended up making me grow tall.
They tried to end what I started
But in the end it was them who departed,
Or at least they have just in my head
And so I no longer focus on what to dread.
From gay to slut you hear them all.
You scream and sprawl,
Running and ignoring these filthy calls.
Nothing worse than getting a title
From kids who think they`re entitled.
We are the youth,
What we hear we think is the truth.
Founded by a society
That gives you anxiety.
The words hurt more than broken bones.
As we receive these messages from phone to phone.
In your Place
Cocky, rude everything you are
You’ll never grow up to be a star
You shout and boast
All the things I hate most
You think you’re superior
When really that’s just your exterior
We are the people you use
Not worrying about the abuse
You laugh in our face
Well I’ll put you in your place
We are people who come from a place
Where people are judged for they’re race
Or the way they talk and the way they walk
Or even if they wear an odd sock
As you walk through the front gate
When you are a few minutes late
Everyone glances like you have three heads
As if you were a puppet and someone’s cutting the threads
You can lie to your brain
But not to your heart
The scars and your problems
Are never apart
Salvation can and will
Always be found
So set yourself free
Let your mind be unbound.
The queen bee finding herself in a new game
Realising that everything is most certainly not the same
New problems thrown in her face
There is no longer a safe place
Judged for her looks even on the field
Exposed and open no way to shield
Commented at for all the wrong reasons
“Shorts to short, too big to run”
But the change has happened her and now it’s here
Leaving her with different problems to fear
Judged from all angles girls and boys
Treating her like an object or a toy
Pants – too tight
Skirts – too short
Doesn’t know how to sort
Wants to find a way out but nowhere to go
As she can’t take being called a hoe
Suddenly a knife is looking like an option
As she holds pills in her hands and eases the tension
A Broken Childhood
The boy that was tortured that saw the un-dead,
Demented, unstable, who’s feelings bled
The boy that played by the drugstore,
Couldn’t swim but plunged by the seashore
The girl who wept, a burden, a slag,
Recognised only by her burnt on dog tag.
The girl who detested but wouldn’t resist,
Hated blood but bled from her wrist.
The boy and the girl who grew up together,
A junk and a number gone forever.
Because I come from a privileged background must make my life easy right?
Oh my you’ve been mistaken
Yes I can have nearly to anything I want
But the one thing that’s being kept from me will be hard for you to take in
You must be thinking “probably the latest iPhone or newest most expensive shoes”
Trying to carry on at school with the fact that I don’t know what she’s doing right now
Doesn’t make my life easy
Watching hour long documentaries just so I can try to understand what she’s going through,
Then frantically thinking about the life I might have to live up to
Throwing the most crowded house-party so I could indulge in some cheap apple tree cans
Just so I could get the chance to forget about my mom.
I sound like a monster don’t I?
I know I do,
But try a live a life where you don’t know in the morning
If your own mom remembers you.
This is where Pain stabs like the sharpened bullets and bombs,
The aching hunger and thirst, the unforgiving bayonets and stones,
The heated words and orders of people,
Who are fighting because they have no other choice.
That is where, when someone stands up, they are slandered,
Called a “Bigot”, “Racist”, “Misogynist” and “Bully”.
When the people who are supposed to tell only the facts and truth
Instead give us Slander and “Fake News”,
When the people who support them receive death threats against their family
And insults instead of thanks and applause.
This is Today.
This is all of these things and worse.
This is where Anger lives when innocent men die as the boys at the top sit and lie.
Today is where nobody can really say what they mean
Because they will be told that “nobody cares”, or that they are “right wing bullies”.
Today is where one side can shout as loud as they like about whatever they like,
No matter the truth or evidence or reason,
Today is where anyone who dissents is a “Bigot”, “Racist”, “Misogynist” and “Bully”.
Today, however is not all bad,
Today is where people are waking up.
Today is where people are not only criticising others.
Today is where people are looking into mirrors to try and see themselves for who they really are,
Today is where people aren’t afraid to be who they are.
This is where people abuse that privilege and throw it back in our faces.
This is where people can start to stand up and shout “I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK”
This an age of awakening.
This is today.
Issues of the mind are classified as taboo
Swept away for the dust to collect,
No one cares about the possibility of neglect
People call each other vulgar names
For just expressing their own style
Assumed to be meeting the same gender at the end of the aisle
Whether you’ve slits on the wrist or leg
Or you’re addicted to the beer kegs
You’re classified as unwell if you’re different.
Memories are like a window
They can show a beautiful scene
Or the day you want to forget
They can make you remember things you would rather forget
Or the day when you saw that beautiful sunset
Sometimes they are what you need
When you have failed to succeed
They help you to remember the good you’ve done
And that you haven’t hurt anyone
Whether your’e glass is half empty or full
Memories are there for everyone
You’re a slut and you don’t got a but,
That don’t mean you can’t walk with a strut.
Your skirts too short, your hairs too long,
Don’t listen to them just be strong.
You can’t play rugby or do boxing
Stay in the house,
Be as quiet as a mouse.
You’re a girl for god’s sake make us some food,
Stop being rude.
Tomorrow you will do the same,
Stop putting us to shame.
And as I burned down my poems
I pretended that they were not in vain
As we’re the Greek economy of cashing resolutory cheques
Who conceal the feeling of unrest
With a promise of protocol and Prozac
To hide the inhumanity of what they think that we feel
But if we can’t get it off our chest
We won’t be able to breathe
So, I guess this is just an outlet
That I hope will put the flames out.
School isn’t Cool
School is rough
Ya need to be tough,
Everyone lacks of sleep
Homework’s given by the heap,
How can we be well in the head
When were just dying to get to bed
Thrown at frightened hares
Uniform is worn
Gotta have a friend
Don’t stand out, blend
Blame myself for the tragedies,
The different melodies,
That my heart strings play,
As I fire away,
Murder is endless,
Doubt you could get this,
I don’t believe in the lust,
But the pain I must trust.
A New Society
Everyone’s inner thoughts are expressed verbally and no one can lie.
Questions are answered, greetings are followed by goodbyes.
Young people are treated like adults and are given more freedom.
Jobs are plentiful, we all get an income.
School is more enjoyable and we can curse at teachers.
We aren’t forced to learn, treated like prisoners.
Stupid laws are abolished and the government becomes more modern.
Politicians listen, hearts become softer and less like iron.
The Leaving Cert isn’t treated like everything in life.
Failing won’t feel like being struck by a knife.
I Can’t Help It
Don’t use long words,
He’s too sensitive,
He’s constantly looking out at the birds,
He can’t take anything negative,
I can’t help it.
Don’t you understand why I’m sad?
It’s not what they’re saying that hurts,
It’s why they’re saying that makes me feel bad.
Why is it me in the wrong?
When I end up hurt all along.
I come from a strict privileged house
A background with lots of rules and one too many joules
Manners and good posture a way of living
And been kind is a way of giving
Family and friends come first
Even before the thirst
Wouldn’t change my family for the dime
I’d end up committing a crime
Shauna O’ Connor
Diagnosed with dyslexia
Always getting corrected
Became very anxious
Always felt blankness
Filled with darkness
Witch lead to sadness
I guess I got through it okay…
8 a.m. Wake up go to the bathroom,
Looking at the mirror wanting to cheer,
Seeing a person as if dropped from a pier,
Being critical feeling insecure,
In my mind a prisoner,
Hearing “no one wants you”,
Becoming a ghost saying boo,
Wanting to vent but the words are turned and bent,
I suppose time well spent.
All the times we had together,
It felt like it could have been forever.
Now she lays, under the tall oak tree,
Where she will be forgotten as time goes by,
But she will look down on us watching up in the sky.
When I was down, you wouldn’t let me frown.
When I was sad, I’d soon be glad.
However now you’re gone I sit and cry,
As I say my last sad goodbye.
The sun would never shine
Ya could say it was a sign
But we didn’t see it coming
We should’ve saw what it was becoming
It all took place the other day
It’ll never be the same they all say
The lad gave up and lost his life
Guards arrived and found the knife
They say it was a runaway
Ya could say it was a sign
Always acting superior
Just to stop your eyes from becoming tearier
Always acting cocky
But I’m as tough as Rocky
Always tryna make me feel down
But I’ll still wear my crown
Always asking for a fight
Even though you know I’m right
Eye on Eye
Eye on eye, with the opposition,
Both of us have only one mission,
To get that ball over the bar,
Nothing will stop me: this is war.
Yet, I still fail.
I go pale.
With frustration my coaches scream,
“You can’t do anything, don’t even dream!”
It was only a mistake,
That anyone could make.
And I’ll bounce back,
For faith, I don’t lack.
So next time I get the ball,
I will score and stand ten-feet tall.
I Come From
I come from potholes, sheep, green grass and views
Where no one’s ever looking for news
Not of course to forget my grandad
When he sees me he is sure glad
To have the chats and a ‘cuppa’
At six o’clock before the ‘suppa’
Almost one hundred as old as the hills
Daily prayers and lots of pills
He lives alone, away from his wife and child, out of sight,
She left him in the dead of night.
He hit the wall, howling with heartbreak.
He finally died, of heartache.
I control the rest of my body and also where my hurts are felt
While I can control my feelings it is to the detriment of my health
I lay and waste my life minute by minute
Where I am lazy and try not to quit
Josh creates all the wooden candle holders
For a chance to add to his TY folder
I reside as of chance in Ireland rather than Saudi
And as of chance I don’t see people fire and dead bodies
People come to slowly die and call it recreation
And all this leaves for the people is frustration
My thoughts are surrounding my beliefs and making up my mind
My dreams are mixed up with my ideas and surround my confused find
I get rid of all my thought and focus on myself
And forget to think about anybody else
We make sport a way of living rather than a way of stressing
And we all need to learn that lesson
That everybody is a person
You try to make me fall but all you make me do is stand up tall
I no longer have to wonder what it is to fall
This is when she pleaded and screamed “I’m sorry”,
And no one was there to tell her don’t worry.
She dies alone, in agony lying on the floor,
Directly beside the front chapel door.
We left her there and went for dinner,
Only to come back and seen her holding with her finger.
The woman fell on her back,
And dies from a heart attack.
I come from the rough streets of Manchester
People with knives, people with guns
Can’t leave the house without my dad or mum
Scared to walk to the shop to get some food or a drink
You would never know what could happen in the matter of a blink
If you knew what happened here, by god you would never come
They’re coming for my family, now we better run
Me and It
Me and it
I was scared I’ll admit
That wolf was ferocious
Its teeth were atrocious
It’s den I was in
This fight I won’t win
His nostrils were flared
His fangs were prepared
He charged with speed
I will soon bleed
He sunk his teeth in
Under my skin
I take my final breath
And welcome death
You put your body on the line
Which is an obvious sign
The game is your life
Which causes you to strife
Is it worth it?
Is it too much devotion?
Because it causes commotion
What’s more essential?
Work or potential
To be the best player in the club
Or even the county
One day I was walking home
And I happened to be all alone
I heard a noise in the distance
I thought I might need some assistance
I ran as fast as I could
Then I heard a great big thud
I was bleeding all over the shop
I couldn’t get it to stop
I knew this was the end
If only I had a friend
My mind is confuzzled
Cannot think straight
I’m trapped all alone
On my phone, At home
Tears pouring down
I cannot escape
I try not to keep a frown
So I’ll wear my cape
I’m done with this life
I can’t take it anymore
I’ll grab the knife
And go out the door
What are we fighting for?
A few inch of land.
Men die for nothing.
Men crawl out of protection
To march to the machine
Guns ready to fire.
This is war
Need to run faster
Need to hit harder
Need to be the master
Need to think smarter
Need to get the ball past
So I need to go fast
Need to make the catch
Or else we lose the match
Need to make the kick
Or I’ll get hit with a brick
I didn’t make the tackle
I can hear them all cackle
We’re losing six nil
Now I’m feeling kinda ill
Pressure starting to spread
Can’t see far ahead
Now I start to slip
And I wake up with a drip
This is a Time
This is a time in which the days grow longer,
But my at the same time my desire grows stronger.
This is a time in which everything is sore,
But when it’s over it will leave me wanting some more.
This is a time where it may seem tough,
But in the end I can’t get enough.
I come from the dark streets of Ballina
I come from the bark trees on grass
I come from the good beats of rhythm
I come from the bad defeats of rhyme
I was on the ferry looking at isolated island that stood in front of me,
But maybe this was the place to be,
I was scared of how it would pan out,
And what the people were about,
As I try and earn some clout.
Some people think of me to daft just because I have a dream
A dream to be a F1 driver and to show that I have an interest
Coming home and playing a driving game
And my brother thinks ‘what that point?’
Driving on the road and that is it nothing
I tell him this is more than driving
It’s when you’re with others trying to get there as fast as you can
Before others get to the finish line.
Being the fastest alive today
That’s why I enjoy it
That is my dream
Its’s Viscount and you know it
I should get a discount on those snakes
No fig rolls left
Have to go for Jaffa Cakes
Have a good day Marge love
Is that even her name
I don’t really know
She’s in the Hall of Fame
I get that you’re worried fella but I’ve not got diabetes
So I’ll keep going with my sweeties
You’re funny if you think you’re getting one of these lad
Actually you might get a yella if you’re lucky
I won’t pretend to be tough
I’m awfully soft, maybe
You might not like my stuff
But I guess that’s showbiz baby
The milk gets taken out of the fridge
The carton that the boys stole from under the bridge.
The tea has been made,
Put in some sugars, don’t be afraid.
I go to put the milk into the tea,
It came out looking like the black sea.
The boys had the laugh,
But before the cow went to calf,
I got the Mikado’s biscuits,
I ate them.
The bottle is half empty before lunch
Usually filled up five times before brunch
The tap outside is so nice and cool
The ground looks like a swimming pool
I play Red Dead Redemption skinning every animal in the vicinity,
When I should be studying as mam wants me to go to trinity.
I traumatise my little brother with my moves inspired by McGregor,
In return he hit me with an egg, I now call him the egger.
My dirty clothes are removed of their dirty, unwanted fluids,
But after a lot of study, I am nearly fluent.
My “friend” called my spagett bad so I kicked him out
And now all my friends say I have the most clout.