Coláiste Chraobh Abhann, Kilcoole, Co. Wicklow

Wrong and Right


I am black, I am white

I know the difference from wrong and right

Everyday it’s a fight

Praying I don’t see that light

The light that so many have seen

As if they didn’t have a dream

Brothers and sisters killed

The thought of this sends chills

Their blood soaks the ground

While they still drive around

There is so much hate

Too much to even date


I’m Not Confused


I’m not confused,

I’m finding myself,

I’m learning to love myself,

I’m not changing myself,

To bind to your expectations,

To be society’s norm,

I’m a They/Them,

Not a he/him,

Not a she/her,

I’m not changing to,

Fit into that small box you hold.


The Angry (Half) Black Girl


You hate my people,

But you know

Nothing of where they’ve come from,

You hate my people,

But you gaslight their come up.


You hate my people,

To the point where you made me wish

I was Barbie,

Blonde and Snow White.


You hate my people,

To the point where I get verbally harassed,

By utter strangers,

Because I’m just a dirty killa,

Because you’re too vanilla,

To call me a nigger.


You hate my people,

To the point where I was appalled,

And dissociated with my white,

Made me feel ashamed to be Irish,

Because you were.


You hate my people,

But Phil Lynett is your hero,

You claim him,

Because he’s your icon,

A rock legend.


You hate my people,

Until you realise we’re capable,

And you’ll never see us crumble,

Never see us fall,

Even though nights,

Where I’d scream,

Slam my head against the wall.


You hate my people,

Because upon these curls,

Perches a golden crown,

And I’m not afraid

Of my battle scars,

My truth,

I’ll spit it out right now,

Like I’m on “Fire In the Booth”.



Broken Memories


The fleeting future in front of me

And the past I have forgot

This labyrinth of my mind keeps me from moving forward

How can I when I don’t remember the day

How can I when my childhood is lost

This broken memory keeps secrets

Only seen through a keyhole

And now I’m in the dark




I come from women.

The women that are hidden and swim in a pool of anger and hurt.

I come from fighters, that pave the way for me, a survivor.

I come from White women, Black women, Asian women, Muslim women.

I come from the silent and the violent.

The weak and the bleak,

The loud and the proud.


Man and Woman


Man and woman

Did we need to speak about people

With a gender?

It is not the question


Like a say a day bigflo

“You are not only boobs and and ass

Stop to listen to thing who insult you”

Yes, things are not only physicals


A girl it is anyone who grow up in a society

A society full of pervers

A society who encourage changes

But who do nothing


So they found strategy

Stay in a group like wolf

Communicate with they own languages like whales

And attack like lioness

And stay jealous and possessive like a magpie


All Blurry


All blurry feelings

Real but inconceivable

We grasp the concept of living


One Goal


All my life I’ve had one goal

To study to learn to be a vet

Whether it came from

Maybe the horses fair

Where I was born

Maybe the dead bird carcass

I saw when I was four

Maybe when my first dog died

Or maybe the gunshots I hear

At least once a week

Maybe when my dog had

When I was ten

Maybe when my rabbits died

On the day of my Christmas test

Maybe when my bird

Won a race in 2014

All my life I’ve had one goal

And nothing will stop me


I Come From


I come from the era of fast info and digitalised lives,

I come from a place few truly know of,

I come from a life of ups and downs and turn arounds,

I come from time and place where everybody knows you’re here

Yet nobody thinks about right and wrong

Sure they speak about pollution and shooting but do they really care,

The answers no because to them it’s not really there

And when it isn’t there you don’t care,

I come from an era with many an issue

But I cannot diss it because there are people who still care for me

And people that I still care for, we all do.




I come from two worlds

Two countries

One is in my heart

The other is what made me ‘me’

Though I can never find a home

Here I am called an immigrant

When I go there they say I’m not from here

They say this is not my home this is not my country

So I don’t even know where I belong at this point

Do I belong here or there

Or even somewhere else

I say

I don’t have to have one home

I can have many

But my home is where my family and friends are




He said his love for me was real,

He claimed “it is the real deal”.

I always said I didn’t believe that is how he could feel.

But I knew that brunette girl could steal.

She threatened she’d do it,

I didn’t think she would and then just leave.

Labelled as a best friend so I believe.


I Don’t Know


I don’t know the difference between right or wrong

Okay, I do but in my mind, I’m the one who’s wrong

Honestly I feel like I’m shouting, crying even at a wall

Only just to fall

Back in to the mask of self doubt

I adorn a smile when I’m with the people I love

But no one knows the pain behind it

No one knows the anger I feel for my mind

“It’s like a deadly disease” is how to describe it

And yet I don’t know how to fix it

I doesn’t happen over night

But I don’t know if I have enough to fight




Boys talk their talk,

Put me and my friends in a box..

But can’t afford to walk the dickhead walk.


Incapable of addressing,

Their so called “views” designed to stir,

When they’re not behind a screen,

Baby boy,

Don’t step in this kitchen,

If you ain’t got no spleen.


I Watch


I watch as they cut their grass,

I watch as they run down the street.

I watch as they eat dinner,

I watch as they flick through channels on the tv.


I watch as they smile,

I watch as they beam.

I watch as they laugh,

I watch as they scream.


I watch myself in the mirror,

I watch a different scene.


A Passion


It’s a passion not a hobby,

Sometimes it can feel slightly foggy,

I try my best, to detest

And fight this feeling in my chest,

Until I realise that I am blessed,

This is a gift that can’t be compressed.

I must fight for what is right.