Untitled
I come from a small town thinking this is where I belong.
Knowing there’s so much more for me to overcome.
Not knowing where to begin so that I don’t end up alone.
There’s so much more to see and I’m feeling like I’m missing out on the best parts of me.
I hope one day things will turn out the way people make it seem to be.
Women
Being a woman is always tough
Never feeling like your enough
Working hard each and every day
Never knowing what to say
You can’t say you’re ugly, but you can’t say your beautiful
You mustn’t lie, must always be truthful
“You can’t wear this”, “You can’t wear that”
“Should I buy this?”, “Does it make me look fat”.
A woman should know how to cook and clean
She must not be heard, only seen
She must also have her own money
And not rely on men who call her “honey”
This is what we are told every single day
Nobody asks what we have to say
Don’t let anyone tell you what you can be
Us women are strong, just you wait and see
Untitled
New place, new faces, feeling so small,
People are watching, I’m scared to fall
Walking alone, a heavy heart,
Hoping to fit in, right from the start.
They look and stare, it’s hard to be,
Wishing someone would notice me and set me free,
In this old school I just want to be me…
Untitled
Obama plaza
Motorway merchants haven
GAA pitch
Goals we’ve been savin’
community café
Volunteers cookin’ up
Moneygall N.S.
You know what’s up!
Untitled
If I die, I want to come back as the ocean
My spirit has waves and my soul is salty
If anyone has met me, they say the same thing
That I’m loud and stubborn
The ocean waves crash loudly but no one seems to mind that because it’s not different or opinionated
I think if everyone sounded like the ocean; nice and boring
the world would be so incredibly boring people would drown themselves among the waves to find excitement
I love the ocean
Untitled
I come from two homes two countries
One with my friends and one with family
Different cultures and different languages
I grew up here not knowing my place not knowing when someone says where you’re from
Untitled
Being a teenager is like being on a rollercoaster it’s filled with ups and downs
with nowhere to hide emotions flying all over the place
always running trying to find your place
where you belong chasing friendships fixing family and relationships
to keep your mind at ease but some part of you will always wonder if your ever truly happy.
Untitled
Two parents but two different homes.
Two parents but both live alone.
Left or right but I cannot choose.
How do I pick, becomes old news,
One so private, so bare.
The other filled with chaos and care.
Love takes over and it’s hard to share
Such a life you can’t compare.
Two parents.
Two homes.
But where do I belong?
I Love…
I love music playing over a speaker when I’m home alone.
I love autumn evening walks when the air is cold, and the streets are empty.
I love long car rides with music playing in my ears, watching the beautiful Irish scenery go by.
I love late night talks, opening up to my best friends about things I would never tell anyone else.
I love sitting outside on a summer’s evening reading the latest book I’ve been hooked on.
I love being around people and laughing till my stomach hurts.
I love hugs from people so tight that I can feel their warmth.
I love sharing girlhood moments with the people I’ve grown up with.
I love the little things in life that make me happy.
I love the things that bring me comfort and make me enjoy being who I am.
A poem about me
I am a kind and loving flame,
Soft at heart, but strong in name.
I lift up others, day by day,
With gentle words to light their way.
The stage has called me, bold and true,
In youth theatre, I’ve found my view.
Not for the songs or shining cheer,
But for the stories we hold dear.
I once ran fast with stick and ball,
Camogie fields would hear my call.
And basketball, with hoops so high,
Taught me to leap, to reach the sky.
Yet in my soul, a dream takes flight,
To act in history, pure and bright.
To breathe the past, to make it live,
To tell the tales time longs to give.
I am not perfect, yet I strive,
To keep compassion deep, alive.
And when I stand, both brave and free,
I know the stage was made for me.
Untitled
These four walls, surrounded by tattered halls and scuffed up floorboards
Raggedy classrooms that no matter how warm always feel cold
You enter these four walls with a hopeful heart clad with hopes and dreams your head full of wonder,
But leave with a tattered uniform and an angry heart
All those hopes and dreams nothing but scuff marks on the floorboards
Be smarter, work harder, listen, get this in your head because if you don’t your future is ruined
You’re defined by a tiny number written in red on top of a piece of paper,
A piece of paper you will forget about when the next is handed to you
Everything comes crashing down with that little red number
But is that what really defines you?
Is what you are, what someone else tells you, you are and suddenly you are not yourself,
You’re what others want you to be, what others want to see.
And that’s not you because what makes you, you is how you see yourself not a little red number.
Weather emotions
Life is like the weather
It can be sunny and happy
Or cold and sad
Gloomy like our thoughts
And unpredictable like our moods
It can change our emotions in a flash
Or blow our thoughts away
It can snow a fleet of new ideas
Or hail a storm of bad ideas.