Cross and Passion College, Kilcullen, Kildare


Thoughts can be written
They can be put on paper and left in a drawer
They wont be heard but you can put power in your words.
They should be spoken, shouted and read aloud.
They should be sprayed on the empire state
They should be carved in the cliffs
They should be spoken or they lose all power

So we will write scream and show them we will that they are wrong
So we can change the world
So we can protect our mothers sisters fathers and brothers
So we will scream from the highest point
So we can live and be proud of who we are
So we can be ourselves without being told we are brave
So we don’t have to put a brave face when we get spit in out face from the old man telling us we are wrong
So we can be proud not scared

Thats the way our message will be heard
That happens when you make them listen
That is the wold we want but not the one we live
That is the one that will be.


It Exists

Everyone comes in to this world alone,
Then we leave feeling at home.
Depression and mental illness is everywhere,
And everyone around you is never aware.
By telling someone is taking a risk,
But believe me when I tell you that they say it don’t exist.
Take that time that you are by yourself,
And make us feel better about our self.

Just A Phase.

I’ve always known I was different.
I’ve always felt it.
I always noticed how I was the only one in my friend group in primary school who got butterflies everytime she saw a pretty girl.
I thought it was normal at first. Everyone likes both girls and boys, it’s just how it is!
How wrong was I.
So I kept this inside because why on earth would I want to be different? Why would I want to stray from the narrative that girls like boys, and boys like girls? Why would I willingly give up this information?
But there’s only so long you can deny a part of yourself that controls such a large part of your life.
So I told her. My mam.
“No, I don’t think you are.”
Not outright homophobic, not accepting. Just. Dismissive.
I tried to explain.
She still doesn’t really understand, but she’s trying.
I told my friends.
They still love me.
Slowly but surely I’m coming out.
I’ve always known I was different.
I’ve come to accept that fact now.
I’ve come to love that I love whoever I want.
It’s not just a phase.
This is me.


I hate limitations,
Well that’s just me,
Because people give you a car,
But won’t give the key.

People show others
“You could be them”,
Then say “come on,
Or we’ll be late to Chem.”

Teachers will happily say do it,
Then give you until noon,
Just please don’t tell me skies the limit ,
When there is footprints on the moon.


The Boy in the Mirror

The boy in the mirror
all he does is stare back
The bruise above his temple
a throbbing lilac

You’re a freak, you’re weird
You’re a queer, you’re a poof
Stop acting so girly
Grow up, act tough

Tap, tap, tap,
These words dance round his brain
Are they right? Is that me?
Am I going insane?

He stares into the mirror
Wet eyes, bloodshot
His legs start to tremble
Stomach tied in a knot

Knuckles turn white
Gripping the sink
He fears if he lets go,
the white floor will stain pink

“Oh just ignore them” they say,
“Easy as pie!”
Blood rushes to his head
A tear falls from his eye

You have nothing to complain about
others have it worse
Your life’s full of blessings
how can you curse?

You’ve got to keep going
You can not give in
Don’t you dare do it
Don’t you dare let them win

So he turns away
Retreats to his bed
His brain can’t stop replaying
The things that they said

Pause. Rewind.
Again in slow motion.
Don’t you dare cry
Don’t you dare show emotion

His head hits the pillow
Eyes glued to the ceiling
Something. Anything.
To get away from this feeling

What if there’s nothing else?
What if this is it?
Why even bother?
Why don’t you just quit?

The voices keep fighting,
His mind, a civil war
One day it will be different
It wont be like this any more

But until that day comes,
He just has to keep coping
Just a boy in the mirror,
Desperately hoping.

I’m struggling

i’m struggling to find a reason to keep on going,
because when i leave the house and i feel completely invisible and unimportant ,
it’s not easy.
it’s not easy to wake up every morning and feel no purpose on earth,
because to everyone else i’m just a background character, like i’m just an extra in everyone else’s story,
i feel like nothing.

The Breeze

It was 11 o’clock at night
There was no signs of light
Walking along the sand
While the wind was flowing though my hand
The waves were crashing the shore
The bangs sounded like war
The beach came to an end
So I sat there with my friend.

They say

Its better to love and lost
than to never love at all
But what if you didn’t lose them?
What if they ran?
What is best then?
Do you still have their love?
Or is running their admission of losing their love for you?
I guess it will just be a mystery.


my mind will be my greatest enemy
can’t we sit and talk, let’s decide what star to steal
it almost seems like a dream to me
a horrible, but wonderful dream
so horrible.
when I was young I was told, that dreams like you will make me so
but I never thought I’d care for the quiet of the night
when I smell the blue and yellow I see you
cry in the clouds I so long to be sleep in
You tend to visit me when you need help. that’s it
and your new knock on my door does not pull me down like usual…
but i frown
how many more times should I dream it again?
you are a nightmare, and I’m suffocating
but oh god
we’re dancing again

What are you so worried of
That I am what you now avoid with the exception of
Our secrets and the public. Or both
Fine, continue to divert it,
I already know
Come, I’ll draw a bath
We can almost drown in each other’s thoughts
And I can kill you after

Evil angel, I hope you find peace
In what I tell you
Oh silly boy, haven’t you heard?
Never hand a knife to killer
Who can only kill himself
Oh innocent child, don’t you know?
I know your secrets.
The only thing to scare you
Is yourself


Do you ever wonder what happens,

To the words that we send?

Do they morph, and reshape,

On the flight that they take?

And do they come back together again,

With a whole new meaning and a brand new sense,

Completely changed in cyberspace from my original intent.

Do you ever think,

About text interpretation?

They can be viewed as bad, or corrupt,

It causes havoc and interrupt,

Across our technological nation.

So before you utter through text,

One single letter, let alone word.

Think about the consequences that can happen next,

It can make someone’s feelings turn absurd.


Body Image

Short , tall , big or small
everything is critiqued
from the length of your hair the clothes you wear ,
your natural physique
Your not good enough.
Never will be,
when will you learn beauty comes from the inside
a state of mind
a difficult thing to find.

Plastic Spoon

from barbie dolls to crying calls
late night confusion to when he’s coming home
“he’ll be home soon” but really he’s on the streets
with only a plastic spoon
where and why the questions are unending
“i thought she was fine”
No , i’m just good at pretending.


Help me I’m lost.

I can’t ask really, can I?
I’m undeserving of help but I grasp for it.
You might be able to see a tear in my eye.
You might think I don’t deserve shit.
I promise you
it ain’t what it seems
Please help me
I’m lost.
its hard to breath.


fill our heads,
In one ear
out the other.
Bags break
our backs,
Words break
our hearts.


A Perfectionist is gifted.
A Perfectionist is the future.

A Perfectionist is writing an English piece the day before it’s due, because you can’t make up your mind on what to write for two weeks.
A Perfectionist is tears in your eyes because you can’t decide what crisps to pick at the till, and everyone in the queue is staring at you.

A Perfectionist is never late.
A Perfectionist is never tired.
A Perfectionist is always tidy.
A Perfectionist is always funny.

A Perfectionist is videos of you being passed around to your extended family of you singing, and being called a young Saoirse Ronan.

A Perfectionist is an insomniac.
A Perfectionist is anxiety attacks.
A Perfectionist is a stomach made of brick.
A Perfectionist is a hot face and sticky eyes.
A Perfectionist is fantasies.
A Perfectionist is loneliness.

A Perfectionist is a curse.

The Spot

It takes confidence to put yourself in that spot
A little puppy in a pen of big dogs
All these people with progress you haven’t got
Stepping on the stage and staring into the smog
A feeling of being judged by everyone
That someone wouldn’t make your mistakes
Watching others do more and wanting to run
Pushing yourself and failing only to be left with aches
Looking around for help or advice
To no avail as it looks like everyone
That they once but themselves in that spot.

The White Line

When I step across the painted white line
My troubles flood away the world feels fine
To have to dedicate your life to the game
I do it all regardless of fame

Training on the damp November nights
To championship games under the flood lights
“Battle hard work for that ball”
I hear my coaches furiously call

Breaking tackles taking hits
Coming home with your back in bits
It’s worth it all come county final day
All my troubles will melt away

I want to lift that championship cup
I’ll try my best I won’t give up.


Ghost Town

Everyone depending on me,
But that isn’t who i want to be.
Out drunk every night,
While the vision of who I’m supposed to be holds on tight.
I’d kill to get out of this ghost town,
Everything about it is tearing me down.
Going home trying to hold yourself together,
I don’t know if I can live like this forever.

Sport is a gateway,

Used to disconnect from life.
When I’m on the pitch I dont have To think about my
family, my friends, my school or anything that might cause me stress. As a defender, I have one job, to stop them from scoring. For whatever length of time I am on that pitch I only have one goal. I believe Sport is the best medicine to any mental illness. No matter how bad you are feeling, an hour of Sport can clear you head and make you feel better. You dont have to disagree with me but if you do then you are wrong


the rusted black gates to the kids falling off their skates,
from the cracked tarmac to the teens that like to smack,
from the red brick houses to the adults who cheat on their spouses,
it’s a crooked community and those from it have little opportunity,
but if you search hard enough you’ll find a diamond in the rough.

From day till night

I live the same
Lots of happy
Lots of fun
Not a lot of pain

My worst enemy is my greatest weapon
It could stop stop a tank or make a navy ship sink
My greatest power is think
Overthink, under-think, sink with a lisp

Overthink about school, love and life
Under think about if overthinking’s right
Neither of them are terrible but both can be lethal
You need to find a correct balance if you want peace

We were perfect,

At a good stage
Then she talked to you,
And now youre on a different page

You were good, you were kind,
Then she talked to you
And you changed your mind

We were unstoppable,
Then she talked to you
And the problems are unsolvable.

Lock Down

From a doubt at the begining of school,
Now they’d think you’re a fool,
To think there’s no Junior Cert,
It has left us unhurt,

But now we’re facing a change,
One that all can see in range,
Taking many, their final breath,
We’ve all heard of old Ms.MacBeth.

Teen Years

They say your teens are the best years of you lives
But all that sentence is is just straight up lies
They tell you you should be happy because other people have it worse
But what they don’t understand is that your teens feel like a curse

You get judged in school for almost everything you do
Whether you’re gay, straight, if your eyes are green or blue
Whether you’re fat or skinny, nice or mean
And it all comes from the other teens

My advice to would be don’t be too loud
And don’t be too quiet, just stay middle ground
But don’t let all of this cause you any fear
As you need to make the best out of your teen years.

Know Me

Everyone thinks they know me,
Know who I am and what I do be,
They don’t know what’s true,
They see me with the crew,
But don’t know me,

They don’t know what happened to me,
They don’t know what I’ve been through,
But I’m not ready to show them the blow I’ve been through

Welcome to Newbridge

The town with the Crown
The population in this place is mostly filled with clowns
We have banging Chinese, Indian and Maccers
Big Mac, Chicken Curry, Spice bags and Crackers
We have Whitewater the place to be
We have EuroGiant, the Food Court and The Shitty JD

So come here if you want your bike robbed by a gang in Newbridge called W12 there all a bunch of knobs.


is a place that people
have to face.
A place where people
get to learn.
But for some it is a place
where people
face the hate
of even coming at all.

My mind is a house

With walls covered in pain
the problem is I don’t try to fix thing
I just try to repaint.
I got to thank all this anger I carry around
it feels like I can burn these walls
matter of fact I think imma do it right now
but for some reason
these walls won’t come down.

I never wanted to play soccer

or any sport for that matter
but one day my da made me play for kilcullen,
I hated it at first but after seven years of playing
I couldn’t imagine life without it.
Soccer is one of the main things in my life
and it keeps me going.
I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world.

The boys in Newbridge

Walking around the town
Ain’t know one seeing me with a frown
But those moments I change
I then go to a low price range
But when those times come
The boys will will arrive and we’ll have fun.


is a huge part of my life , it cuts me open like i cut meat with a sharp knife , i love gaa because a gaa pitch is where i belong , the reason for that is it may aswell be my home , i love playing in finals , it gives me such a confidence boost , you know the way it goes ill kick scores off me left or right boot , so my name is dean murray , my dream is to get onto the county .