Colaiste Pobail Osrai, Kilkenny.

Day By Day

Possessed by inner devils I go astray,
Voices of hate around , passing day by day,
Silent as the night deaf in despair,
Breathing a hideous atmosphere in the air,
The mask of happiness doesn’t fade from my face,
Scars on my body are sketches that i trace,
Walking in puddles of tears , my hope is faked,
The good ol’ taste of saltiness, ,my thirst is slaked.

Pure Heart

Why do their thoughts about me matter,
What does their criticism have to do with me,
You’re ugly, you’re annoying, you’ve gotten fatter
Hearing their thoughts just fill up my head,
If I was selfish I’d probably be dead,
I’ve realised their words shouldn’t affect me,
They don’t mean it, they’re just insecure,
Realising that I am who I was meant to be,
Has made my heart feel pure.


People have opinions , now that’s certain
But many of those are hidden behind an iron curtain
A curtain of pressure and a desire to fit in
But yet no single person thinks the same thing
So when someone speaks listen to what they say
Even if you think it should be said another way
It’s okay to agree or disagree with someone
Just consider what they say and don’t make assumptions
As you never know what inside someone’s head
They could be hanging on by a single thread

The Sea

I love the sea.
When i stare at it it takes me away from me.
My thoughts, my worries, my anxieties. All of it.
They simply wash away like a wave.
I wonder what it would be like to be a fish, to see through their eyes is my only wish.
In a school, a group, you find purpose.
You feel like you belong.
I love the sea.


Everyone has a Hobbie.
Some people like Sports, Art or Music.
I have hobbies.
I put in a lot of effort to be good at them.
All these expectations for something you love is unfair.
It’s stressful and it feels like I’m losing air.
It’s hard to be good at something at a young age.
I can’t get out of this big empty cage.
I can’t help but lose love for my skills.
Everyday it feels like I’m climbing up hills


It’s Christmas time no sun to shine
Macs about the man’s got a snout
In the forest with my man
He’s not a fan because he got no clan

Far Away

If i could catch it in a bag
And throw it away
I’d send it a far
So we would be ok