Posts Categorized: Blog

Concrete Graveyard 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 Dara Doody Revolution The spark that

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Different Different because I play a sport that none of the other girls play, Different because I don’t like going to discos or on nights out, Different because I would prefer to wear leggings and a hoodie than dresses and heels, Different because I don’t drink at 15, Different because I have common sense not

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Be You Life is weird. It’s like a never ending rollercoaster, Ups and the downs, round and round. But why do we stereotype? Why do we judge people for being themselves? Why can’t we just be unique and be different? Is it because we are scared of being judged, Or is it simply because we

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Candlelight It’s surrounding me, Closing in on the flame of my delicate candle, One wrong move or misdirected breath and Its lights out. It claws at my skin, whispering in my ears, Its hot breath tickling my neck. I push it away or try to at least but it Doesn’t work like I hoped, In

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The Ashes of Change She always felt scared of change, Preferring to dwell, ignorant, Confined to her wishbone cage. They arrived, Coercing selfish reform, Their methods of alteration cruel and wrong. She knelt down, head bowed, Keeping herself lowered to the ground. Yet hidden, her bravery fortified Their evil adding fuel to her flame of

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Trapped in a World No one is the same So why do we all try to act the same Wearing the same clothes Saying the same things Doing what people tell us to do because we don’t want to be different Never standing out and being ourselves Afraid to do things in case we are

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I Feel I feel happiness, sadness I feel anger and loneliness. Too many thoughts, Too many feelings, Travelling through my heart and brain. I don’t understand myself, I don’t know my personality, Sometimes I feel extrovert and strong, Or even introvert and delicate. I just know that I want to be happy I am happy,

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Lark The lark sings, A cheery, thrill, vocal cry. On par, with an angel tuned lyre, In the valley of rye. This is where, The lark brings, A cheery, thrill, vocal high. A dark angel trapped in wire, In the valleys of the sky. Charlie Brady Hands A room full of people shaking hands, Meeting

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Trying If I am trying to be kind, And put my hand out for a shake, Do I seem like a lick, or Do I come across fake? If I ask for a favour, And one does approve, Is that taking advantage, If I continue and use? In a hour of panic, When ones faced

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A Battle of Lead A line shows the ground A circle is the sun Scattered dots reveal the dirt And mixed dashes, a field overrun Swift strokes conjure an oak tree Burly men hunch behind Long rifles kept close With hidden enemies to find All soldiers charge on foot Heavy rain masking their roar With

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