Everyday, I see the faded splendour of what this city used to be,
The jaded elderly stumbling home from the local pub at 1 in the morning,
Lost in the gloomy city streets that never gave them a chance to shine,
to flourish to their fullest potential, like they were promised.
Everyday, I smell the musty, dirty smell left behind by the rain,
The stale stench left by the litter strewn into bushes and trees,
The burning of bins in parks, and the petrol hanging in the air by O’Connell Street,
And how it lingers for all to inhale, leaving no trace of the beauty that once was.
Everyday, I feel the damp brick walls that line every street corner for miles,
The rainwater pooling into my shoes as i step into the third puddle in a row,
I feel the chilled air slam into my eyes as it billows through the alleys,
And the stiffness in my fingers as I waddle home for warmth after a long school day.
Everyday, I hear the wailing of police sirens, hunting down the thugs,
Who plague my life and others in school, with their endless bickering and torment,
The same who talk about cocaine in the back of the canteen at lunch,
And act as though they’re at the top of the world,
When they’re stuck clawing at nothing but future grief.
Everyday, I taste the same old boring taste of Barry’s Tea,
And the stale flavour of fish fingers, that makes me want to vomit,
I taste the lead in the air from the cars polluting the air as I trudge home in the darkness
Provided at 4pm in the day, but it can’t be helped.
My senses provide a sour taste,
Of life in Dublin in the modern day,
But regardless, I could never hope to change,
The sombre atmosphere left by the City’s decay.
The Room of Many Purposes
I know of a place where things that take a whole building to do, can be done in one room.
There’s no magic, no spells, no enchantment, nothing that will bring your doom.
In this place, there is only 4 main pieces of furniture, and they all give many things.
One gives hours of entertainment,
Another lets you rest your weary head,
Another allows you learn many a new thing.
Now you may wonder, what is this place and where does it loom?
This place is my bedroom
I Come From
I come from the box room in my home
I come from waking up at 8:50 and straight
I come from playing play station all weekend
To repeating the same week over and over
I come from being in my room for most of the day
Doing online school 9 to 4
I come from walking the same route with my dog
Everyday due to a 5km radius
I come from being stuck at home cause of COVID
It’s a Battle
It’s a battle on the field,
Whereby you must draw your shield.
Every kick of the ball,
Makes it feel as if you’ve hit a wall.
It’s end to end,
The final whistle would be a godsend.
We’re not there yet,
We still need to put the ball in the back of the net.
And then go back,
And wait for the next attack.
Until that day,
We must wait and hit the hay.
Average Version of Me
I am the average version of me
I am the glowing lights of my RGB setup
I am the glare from the shining monitor
I am the orange and yellow of my controllers
I am the booming bass from my speakers
I am the protagonist from my posters.
I can also be the antagonist from the posters too.
I am the animes and manga I hold so dear
I am the figurines on top of my PC
I am the not-so average, version of me.
From the cosy sheets to wishes of walking the streets
From computer screens to a plate full of greens
I wish I had free will
Of what I can and cant do
Rain Rain go away
Oh please make the pain
Make it go away oh
Okay now sometimes that I really wonder
If we are meant to be together live for each other
I can see something beautiful
Oh wait it’s you
Going through the fields
I don’t think you’ll yield
Although you may be in sight
I wouldn’t dream of this… right?
School is boring
Put me on a plane
Gliding through the night
I want to wake up
And not have to worry
About the assignments
I have to do in a hurry
I miss football training
Even if it was raining
I miss doing laps of the pitch
Even if it gave me a stitch
I am red
The impostor is blue
Green is acting sus
So I’m ejecting you two
I used to hate facial hair
Until it grew on me
And then I was asked
What was brown and sticky
A stick I said with pride
Believing myself to be funny
Only to hear “no its shi-”
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
You make me smile.