We live our lives
Where we spend our time
Slowly wasting away
Where creativity is strangled
Like the night that swallow the day
Where apathy and contempt is bred
In a coffin for a bed
This is where we waste away
Beneath these skies of concrete grey
The spark that lit the fire was strong,
It melts through the toughest steel,
It burns wood to mere ash.
This spark came as a book,
A book that would bring glory of the people,
That promoted equality and liberty for all mankind,
That is when the fighting started.
Centuries of culture,
Centuries of belief in one system,
Centuries of empires,
Burning in this eternal inferno.
As the red flag was hoisted above Moscow,
In an eternal cycle,
The Whispers of the Dark
It’s unknown to those who project them,
But for those watching the dark figures prancing along the ground,
The silent whisper is deafening.
Portraying a story of joy and love,
Or a story of sadness;
The floor on which we walk,
Or the walls that we paint,
Listen to these stories
Keeping them in mind
‘Till they’re moved to a better place.
Your golden heart beats fast
You take in your last breath.
Before falling hard
On the cold stone floor.
Your lifeless body lies unmoving,
They come out of the dark
They look down on their latest victims face,
Dark smiles of a thousand twisted faces shine.
Never forgets the debt
That he is owed.
He never forgives the the ones that lie,
Especially when their life is on the line.
They say some rule while others drool
They say they’re cool but not you
But who are they?
Who are the ones who define our every waking moment,
With standards, slanders and easy answers.
Why do we think they know us better than ourselves,
When we’re the only ones who do.
When was the last time you thought he’s stronger than me or she’s prettier than me.
When did you decide that matters did you
Or did they decide for you?
Who are they?
They are you and me and the person to your left and your right behind you and in front of you.
They are us from a different point of view.
16 times, I send that text,
Never a reply,
I thought something was missing,
Someone to look up to
But all I needed was to look at what I had
And who had done everything to get it for me,
Then I realized there was nothing missing,
Nothing worth missing
The Junior Cert has come and gone
The stress we were put under has become pointless
The expectations of your parents and family who on the day didn’t care about your results
The comparing of grades that you can’t even remember anymore
The feeling of not being good enough because of that one subject
We have been judged not on the basis of our intelligence but on the capacity of our memory
And somehow after years of people saying this nothing has been done
You are still judged on what you can remember
You are still judged on rocks and soils, and boring poems
And stories that never really made much sense to you
We are made to learn subject that play to our weaknesses
We are made feel inadequate when we fail
How is this fair?
And now we face into the leaving cert course where judgement day is only two years away
And it is the same vicious cycle as the Junior Cert just more is at stake
They’re blabbering bluntly like a bully
A bully who hides his blues by making others lose
I feel like nothing changes everything stale all flavourless
And I cannot look for flavour in life
As I fear losing the only colour that I have in life
The colour that is only temporary as it distracts from the grey reality
As I fear to look onward because I fear that I’ll see more grey
The Best Days of Our Lives
I sit at a table and I watch a man rant about the problems he had when he was my age.
About the good and bad of being a lad.
He grew up in a foreign land yet I just get him.
He makes sense to me. He knows what it’s like to be me.
He can relate to me. He speaks my language.
He doesn’t talk like the teachers he talks like me.
He doesn’t tell me what to do and why not to do it, speaking down to me like I’m ten.
He tells me do it try it and you’ll see why people tell you not to do it
Or maybe just maybe you won’t you’ll do it again and again,
Until you do and if you don’t, well we’ll fix that if or when we get there. Y
Es he had it worse, yes he had it tougher,
But he doesn’t say that means our problems aren’t problems at all.
He says that we all have problems especially when you are that age.
We all got problems and these days just simply aren’t the best days of our lives.
If I look at my life all I see is being made third best out of the big three,
Treated like rubbish, dusty and the tumbleweed that roles behind the rest.
When I make mistakes I get blamed, the other two are treated like angles,
While I am a devil in my family’s eyes.
I am a lost soul that just wants to be free to live my life live my dream.
The reality is I am a little mouse told to be silent,
Since a mistake that I was tricked to do.
But I will be free somehow someway and I will live my dream someday.
The Whole Cycle
Why do I feel like the world’s gonna swallow me up
Whenever my parents give out to me about stuff,
I get angry and shout back when my stuff is taken,
I slam my bedroom door and tell God “you must be joking”
The next day I wake up and head to my class,
Having forgotten what happened in the past
Then the boring classes come now and then go,
When the time comes for me to head home
Now sitting down on the chair near the bin,
Waiting for the whole cycle to begin.
One A, five Bs, three Cs, two Ds
This is what the board of education mark me,
My imagination, now has no validation,
My loud laugh and bright eyes, have turned to soft sighs and muffled cries
I don’t care about who died in history, and geography really doesn’t appeal to me
Education is about who they want us to be,
Not our individual ability.
People hear, listen, look, smell and be,
All to make themselves happy,
Everyone is selfish
Everything is selfish.
Cuán Ó Glaisne
All the times you walked past it into your room.
All the times you hit it out in anger.
All the times you sprayed graffiti on it.
In a fit of unbridled rage
You painted it with your tears and blood
Remember all the times
You destroyed it.
To avoid it
And start all over again
These Ghosts Never Forget
These ghosts never forget
The army generals
Entered one by one
To sacrifice lives
It must be done
The women cry, men scream
Children wail and devils dream
To enter battle
They must with all abandon sail
To unwillingly fight
And face the hail
Of arrows, bullets
Tooth and bone
And rise up to the burning sun
You can always hear the bully’s laugh spreading through the hallways
As he tortured and beat the small kid
You can hear him cry and look so sad
As he sits all alone asking any passer-by to sit
You can hear him sigh and look so dismayed
As sits seeing f’s seeing f’s seeing f’s
But what you don’t hear is the bully’s last breath
When he points the gun at his head
The Inspiring Dream
The dreams were made.
Where songs were sung.
The victories to which
The fights belong
The tears of sadness
Turn to joy
You want to be
What you destroy
The Way it Is
The bus is going to stop.
The violent shootings occurred yesterday and didn’t drop.
The protest took place last month and never stopped until midnight.
A new shopping centre is going to be built and are going to sell ice pops made from guilt.
The new fast food restaurant is located and they have pop up balloons to be inflated.
As the Night
As the night drew on
Darkness drew in
Swallowing the room and the mind alike
As every night since that night the darkness moved
Once again paralysed by his dreams
Demons lunged and crept closer
But once again he could not fight back
Bright colours surrounded me,
As I sat at her bedside.
It had been days since she last moved
Days since I last cried.
I had spent so much time with my granny,
Stayed with her every summer.
The room filled with silence,
She slid into her slumber.
The colours on the walls around me faded.
I was left alone
Life is hard.
Life is unfair.
But really does anyone actually care.
No they don’t and that is true.
But the life you want to live is up to you.
If you want to be a plumber it’s up to you.
People will judge you no matter what you do.
People are broken.
People are sad.
It doesn’t matter there just mad.
Whenever I’m feeling sad,
I look upon his face,
And all my problems erase.
His advice and his kind words,
They make me feel at home
He’s not just my dad he’s my best friend.
Emma Jane O’Leary
We learn from our mistakes
From the wrong turns we take
From the fake friends we make
And from the times we almost break
I love sport
Sport is fun
Sport is big where I come from
I love hurling
I always go to training
I go outside and pick the ball
Forward and back off the wall
I practice to get as good as I can be
And maybe I might play county
I have 2000 friends
At least that what my profile says
I wonder how many of these
Would ask how my day has went
Pretty posing friends
Yet why do you hold your breath
I wonder how many pictures
Did it take to look your best
I see all these amazing pictures
Oh look you went to Spain
But behind closed doors
Past all the walls
You really are in pain
Straight up I don’t know what to write
But seeing as my money is a bit tight
I might have to get into a fight
But I can’t in broad daylight
Well if you do insist
This idea could get you in a twist
You could fall in despair
If you fail in markets everywhere
But your mind takes too only so much wear and tear
Before it shatters in despair
But success could take you anywhere
And free you from the despair
The lonely stands by itself
Not another tree in sight
Everything is calm and peaceful
In the distance, it sees a light
Suddenly it’s branches start spreading
They grow and grow and grow
Until it is tall enough to see above the light
And then it knows it’s fully grown
Girls change for simple reasons and not for who they are around
But for who they are must comfortable with.
Girls go home and change their straightened hair into messy buns.
They take off their faded make up just to be themselves around their family.
Their take off their branded clothes and go into the cosiest of pyjamas.
We put away the phones to communicate with family and those who really care about us.
We block out the people that are irrelevant and show our true colours.
We live life to the fullest with the people we love because they are who really matter.
Everybody is loved and everybody has their own personality,
it’s just how they evolve around certain people.
If you don’t love yourself how can you love the people around you.
Everybody is full of new possibilities you just have to learn to accept it
When I was Twelve
When I was twelve, I had a match
It was a Sunday the whole parish was there
My father and mother were in hospital
She gave birth to a baby that was born asleep
When I was twelve, I had a match
The next day I had my first day of school
My Dad came late to my game I knew why
I’ve never seen a man under so much pressure not to cry
When I was twelve, I had a match
We won the game I had a feeling of joy
But then I remember my dead baby brother
I got home and felt partly to blame
When I was twelve, I had a match
My Dad put on a brave face
He became my hero
When I was twelve, I had a match
I dreamed I was flying
But not very fast
Through the forest and valleys
Digging up the past
Take me back to the days
We believed in fairies and ghosts
No drama, pressure or stresses
As we pranced around
In our little fine dresses
I dreamed I was soaring
Way up in the sky
My beautiful wings flapping
As I continue to fly
I looked down below
And all I could see
Was a little known figure
Looking straight back at me
I woke of a shot
With a gentle shudder
No fairies or ghost
It was only a dream
I hear the sweet sound of my mother
I called up my friend Ted who panicked and his head.
He hit his head of the bed and crumpled down into the shed.
He woke up from the shed and went to make some bread.
The bread he ate was nice and sweet and then he went for a great big sleep.
Shot to Fame
When Kylie Jenner shot to fame
She didn’t play it as a game
Her daughter was in bed
She thought to herself, your one big sleepy head
So she decided at the right time,
She’d stroll on in there and wake her up with a nice….
Rise and shine
When I came across this app
I thought it was a lot of crap
Scrolling through the raps
Suddenly I felt a wrap
When I came across this rap
“Yoo-hoo big summer blow
Biggest fan I am
I thought that was a laugh
Full Time Mad Yokes
A rollie stored within his sock
The Mad yoke’s face
Outward it flops
He makes his way towards his mates
Though similar to the human race
They could be no more different
In the alleys of a street
The Mad Yokes now require
Something to eat
To the chipper they must g
To everyone’s horror and woe
The Mad Yokes they all enter
Everybody almost keeps
To not only the smell
Of their meals
But to the stench of drink
And fags which must be linked to their mental impediance
Though it may seem their satisfied
Their brains are all deep-fried
To provide a slight escape
From a reality, bleak and cold
Though they are young, it makes them feel old
For the Mad Yoke
Life is sad and tiring
He is rather tired of trying
A needle jammed into his wrist
His coming death feels quite bliss
Watching a TV series
It really defines
Relations between friends and family
To feel like a hundred lifetimes
Through hard days and easy days
It’s nice to tune in
And share a laugh or cry
That comes from within
There comes the bitter sweet day
The end of a perfect creation
And we watch the final credits roll
To close a generation
I’m from a big house on a hill,
They come from small houses with small meals,
They weren’t the smartest,
But they worked the hardest,
I hope to be the same,
So I can repay them.
I come from screens, projectors, whiteboards and noise
I come from diapers, naps, playtime and toys
I come from goals, nets, training and balls
I come from friends, town, facetime and calls
I come from takeaway, pizza, burgers and chips
I come from highs, lows, rises and dips
I come from games, tv’s, wins and losses
I come from work, wage, raises and bosses
A Game of Heroes
A game of heroes,
A game of kings,
Tears are shed,
Blood is spilled,
A game where bonds are cemented,
A game of heartache and heartbreak,
A game of skill and thrill,
The game of hurling.
Through eyes a world is seen
And through minds a world is perceived
A unique world
Our minds –
Our opinions, beliefs, likes, and dislikes
They are islands
Separated by a vast ocean
But bridges can be built
The islands can be connected
Why live in just one world?
We live on one planet
But our planet has endless worlds
Brave new islands
Study the engineering of connections
And build a bridge
Draw the Line
As we all gathered around I now began to see
The unfortunate soul staring up at me
He was kicked all day
And bullied online
Nobody knew where to draw the line
Friends are like sun rays,
Always beaming with fun,
They’re there for you on your darkest days,
And they’ll always offer you a bun.
They have bundles of joy,
And care for you a ton,
They’ll always play with you no matter what toy,
And most importantly they’re there to have fun.
All Day Long
All day long, you sit in class
All day long, you wait and see
Will the teacher ask me
For the homework I’ve not done
Because I couldn’t be bothered to try
And figure out how to multiple
The time finally comes when the teacher asks to see
The homework that was assigned to me
And all I can think to say
Is I’ll bring it in another day
Flames Drew Closer
As the flames drew nearer, I braced for death,
As my vision became blocked, by a man no less.
Before a word could be said, I took a breath,
As I was picked up and carried, through a door god bless.
Though I was saved, mind will always sway,
For I caused the fire, and I regret it to this day.
Upon polish, land a Russian yoke, upon Polish land a German yoke,
Upon Polish land an Austrian yoke, years and years.
King after king, Kaiser and tsar all of foreign blood.
With the world all against us it seems that our land is lost.
But cometh and go wars and polish blood spilled for causes we care for not.
But this war is different tis pole against pole under each yoke destroying itself.
By November, armistice the war is gone and by which yoke shall we enslave ourselves to now?
No yoke, damn the yoke!
Poland shall endure on her own!
21 years of war and blood fighting to keep our borders big and our enemies small .
21 years to keep ourselves free 21 years come to an end. German yoke once more.
Our cities, gone, people gone, hope gone but no.
We can’t fight but fight we will anyway for help is on the way.
Where is it? Where is this help? It’s gone it’s fruitless it’s hopeless it’s lost.
But no were still here underground hiding from the yoke and then yoke shall once more be gone. Why is it still here? Why is still here under Soviet name?
44 years under communist yoke, freedom dead but hope survives.
Solidarity! 44 years of torture, oppression, Russian grip on our necks.
Solidarity! 44 years they come to an end the yoke is crumbling and falling,
the Russians their grip is dying and Solidarity!
It cannot come soon enough and it does.
Freedom from German from Austrian from German from Russian it cometh.
It cometh at last but not burning through soldier, flag or city.
Not a single rifle raised, not a single grave lowered. But we are finally free.
Lost for 100 years but now we are found. Poland is not yet lost