Loreto Abbey Dalkey, Loreto Avenue, Harbour Road, Dalkey, Co. Dublin

The Water

The water majestically flows at first,
Reminding me of my youthful thirst.
Back to the times of climbing trees,
Playing with friends and moments glee

The water starts to twist and turn,
Bringing me back to my boisterous yearns,
Where life turns dull and hormones return,
With music blaring and blunts burned.

The water stills and comes to a bend,
Showing what seems to be the rivers end,
Opening onto a beautiful lake,
Reflecting one’s life and shining fate.

Anna Hoffman and Muirinn Daly

Deprived

We are deprived of our individuality
No expression
No opinions
No control
No respect
We are strong
We are unique
We are smart
We are one
I am broken
I am trash
I am unloved
I am disrespected
I am hiding in the shadows
I am alone …
I can’t understand
I can’t ask for help
I can’t thrive if I can barely survive
I can’t sit still
I can’t be normal
I can’t be myself
I am judged
I am death
I am life
I am one

Mariah Carey

Vanity Society

We are stuck in this vanity society
There are no single root to escape the reality
Only to live in the lies of internet, Photoshop and filters
Does it make you or anyone else to feel better?
Sitting on your coach with your phone in your hand
Scrolling through the lies on social media instead
People now forget the one your texting is on your left
Take a moment and look around
Please don’t let it be a theft

Josephine

Without

We are drowning minds,
Running out of time

We are torn from the start,
As we live our lives apart

We are tears streaming down our faces,
As we cry from different places

We are hiding in the depths of our sorrows,
Dreading what will be tomorrow

We are taught to obey,
Living our lives a stray

We are without

Zuzanna Podgorska, Robyn McNulty, Rebecca Johnston, Hannah Molloy, and Mary Enright

Why Do We Wear Black at Funerals?

Why do we wear black at funerals?
Is it because it’s the colour of sorrow?
But black is the colour that separates days
It reminds us there’s always tomorrow.

Why do we wear black at funerals?
Is it because it’s the colour of death?
But death is a thing that is colourless, tasteless,
You can’t see or catch a last breath.

Why do wear black at funerals?
Is it sinister, cruel, evil, sly?
But black isn’t bold, bright or seeking attention,
It’s soothing and soft on the eyes.

I know why we wear black at funerals,
Black is the colour of night,
And our loved ones are stars, giving us hope,
And guiding us into the light.

Klavdia Wilson

Grenfell

They still stop
Every time they pass,
To gaze upon the grey debris.
Some with reverence,
Some with fear.

They still pause
To pay their respects
To those long gone from this world.

The trees still bow their gnarled boughs
In summertime,
When the memories are fresh
And wounds raw and painful.

Those who know the loss first hand
Lay flowers at the graveside
Of lives that were.

So many were lost,
And many more have lost.
Because of the merciless red flame
That tore greedily through contented life,
Ripping it to shreds.

The wind stills howls
With the sorrows of many.
Its painful tones stirring the hearts of a nation.

And those grey and crumbling walls,
That skeleton of life lost,
Cower,
Ready to fall.

Alanna Oudart

Sometimes

Sometimes when I feel down, I then realize what it’s like to drown.
You find it difficult to try and fight when all you want to do is leave by flight,
Even when you know there are people there to help,
All you really need is scream and yell.
There may be people and things that may trigger your emotions,
When all you need is some time and attention.
Sometimes when I feel really happy,
I 5emember what it feels like to be alive.
To be happy means showing the world you’ve won,
When really all you’ve done is prove that you are one.
To show that you have conquered your fear it means that you begin to hear,
To hear the voices telling you, you can be the greatest version of yourself.

Ailidh Mageean

Talent

Talent is a myth.
Hard work, perseverance,
Determination, dedication,
Separates the good from the great.

Success is not easy,
It takes sacrifice and pain,
Keep going, keep working,
Until you get what you deserve.

Ella O’Connell

Distance

4040 miles
16800 minutes
Distance, it’s hard
You feel so close, yet you are so far
You ache to feel their touch
To hold them close
To never say goodbye
But distance it’s always there
In the back of your head
Like a gruelling hammer that never stops pounding
Distance, It’s a feeling of never enough
Never complete, that longing in your heart never fulfilled
Every phone call, every message
It’s not enough, because deep down you know you can have more
But no one ever said that you can beat distance at their own game
They always win

Annie Egan

How Can I Be Sad?

How can I be sad?
It seems like people will get mad,
If they compare what I’ve got and what they’ve never had.

So instead I smile and say it’s all fine,
And whatever I’m feeling has no right to be mine,
I’ll get over it I’m sure all I need is time.

There’s been no name calling,
But I still feel like I’m falling,
And sometimes I just can’t help but start bawling.

My friends come together in a huge montage,
Yet I hate myself for how much I self-sabotage,
Because I feel like there love could only be a mirage.

I guess I’ll just smile to hide that I’m odd,
I’m scared that someone might see through the facade.

Anon

All I Want for Christmas

All I want for Christmas is an F
An F that I can be proud of
An F that that I don’t have to be stressed about
An F that my teachers won’t worry about
An F that I don’t have to be scared of
An F that people won’t stare at
An F that my mom can say well done
An F that my dad can share with all his mates
An F that I can do whatever I want to do
And F that looks greater than a mark on a page
But…
In Ireland today that’s almost as difficult as getting an A
I want to fulfil my dreams without letters on a page
All I really want for Christmas is for change.

Eleanor Furlong

Asking for It

She was asking for it,
Look what she was wearing they said,
She was screaming for it,
He was just doing what someone else would have done,
It was just a matter of time.

She was asking for it
She could have said no
She could have stopped him but she didn’t
Everyone solitary muscle in her body was saying stop
Her head was screaming but she was frozen

She was asking for it
Hearing his heavy breathing
Feeling his sweaty body
Just closing your eyes just to get through the pain
Through the agony and the nightmare that is becoming reality

She was asking for it
Then comes the embarrassment
Remembering that this is somehow your fault
You are a nuisance, you are a problem

She was asking for it
Then comes the court
Having to painfully go through every single detail of that harrowing night
Having to look that man in the eye and see no guilt
She was asking for it he says

She was asking it
Her friends try to comfort her
Tell her it’s going to be OK
But it never is going to be
Her demons haunt her at night
It has become a part of her because she was asking for it

Despite what you wear, how you dress or how you look you are never asking for it

Rachel Fox

What to Do

I don’t know
What I should do
With the rest of my life.
How could I?
I’ve been alive fifteen years,
A fifth of the average life span.
Those years were spent
Being told what to do.
How do I think for myself.
How should I know?

“What do you want to do after school?”
I don’t know.
“I was thinking of law.”
“No, no don’t waste your time on that,
You don’t have the resolve.”
Who are you to tell me
What you think I should do.
How do you know?

You asked me what I wanted
But really you were just asking
To tell me what to do.
To hear the sound
Of your own voice.
Harsh reactions,
Judgmental comments.
“You don’t know.”

Spoken as if you were regretting
Your own choice.
Trying to help prevent me
From the making the same mistake.
Stuck in a life of misery.
How were you to know?
We don’t know.
And we never will.

Lara McNichols

IMAGINERY

I dream of the day I can get out of Ireland and explore the world,
The day I can be independent and do everything that I WANT to do,
Not things others want me to do,
I dream of the day I can wake up and go to work at my dream job,
The day I make new friends, lose friends, experience love and heartbreak,
Accomplish goals I’ve had all my life and tick off things on my bucket list,
I dream of the day I can stop going to school and doing subjects I’m not interested in,
The day I can start choosing my own path,
A path I may fail but I’ll try again and again until I get where I want to be,
I dream of the day that the world is FULLY equal,
The day LGBTQ is fully accepted and no one makes rude comments about a person’s sexuality,
The day that nobody looks down on others or thinks they are better than anyone
I dream of the day where there are no wars, no fights, no beatings, and no rape
The day the world and everyone in it feels safe and is safe,
I dream of the day that all the people in the world find peace and feel fulfilled with their lives,
The day people have no regrets and are content.
I dream of this day yet it will never come, it’s so out of reach because of ONE thing,
That thing, the one thing that makes this day I dream of, so out of reach is because
It’s IMAGINERY.

Anon

 

This is Where

This is where I sit alone and reminisce about you and what I miss.
Our laughs and talks late at night, should I text you now?
I think I might. To see your smile, to see your face,
To have you here would make me shed a tear.
Too much time, too much energy.
This is where I leave you now, as a memory.

Meghan Keegan

I Sit here Quietly

I sit here quietly. Thinking, memorising and cleansing my negative thoughts.
Positivity is key they say, but nobody says how hard it is.
Don’t keep it in they say, but it hurts to reach out.
Trying to keep my act together in school,
Study hard they say, but how can I when I can’t concentrate.

Ailbhe Donnelly

This is School

This is where we sit each day for hours on end staring at the board
This is where we slump in our chairs forcing ourselves to stay alert and pay attention.
This is where we live our lives, “read this, memorise that, then copy, paste, repeat.”
This is where we write, pages and pages of notes, essays, words, that we don’t understand.
This is where we’re told what to wear and how to be, “no piercings, nail polish or make up”.
This is where we’re controlled by rules, “do this not that” “stop talking” “stand straight”.
This is where we have to go, to school each day to learn we’re told.

Eve McCarthy

I Can

I can finally sit back and say that I’m happy.
I can put my feet up and let out the deep breath
I didn’t realize I have been holding.
I can begin to appreciate the warmth of the sun on my skin
Or the silence of the evenings when I walk home from school.
I can enjoy the melodies of the songs I sing
And allow my fingers to play the notes I want to play, not the ones I’m told.
I can listen to the voices of the people I love and understand the words they are saying.
I can see my friends and loved ones and know that they see the real me too.
I can finally sit back and say that I’m happy.

Elena

Migraine

This headache of mine
Starts at my hairline
Goes down to my neck
And makes me say “Heck!”
My attempts are in vain
I can’t kill the pain
Inside my dear brain
I have a migraine

Mariella Werner

Growing Up

Mums shouting siblings crying dad late home from work again
Me just waiting for the weekdays to finally end
Out on the weekends with fast food and cheap beer
Every time things the same it’s all become clear
My so called friends giving fake smiles and forced laughs
Out on the town at concerts or some gaffs
Crying over some boy every night seems the same
To get drunk and waste money what evens the aim
No teen seems happy anymore or without mental problems
Too anxious or self conscious social media’s the problem
Post my pictures online praying for likes
With no interaction and low self asteem I’m taking a strike
Anxiety and insecurities all stuck in my head
It all needs to stop or someone will end up dead

Anon

Untitled

I never know what to say to you,
All the words just spinning around in mind,
My mouth open but the right words always escape me.
My head lost within the white noise of your anger.
Desperately trying to find a way you might understand me.
Yet I can never convey the things I wish to say to you.
You use this against me, you know it hurts.
The fact that I cannot communicate with you,
In a way that you would understand.

Anon

I Woke Up

I woke up from the sunlight piercing through the blinds
I turn my phone on and it buzzes with excitement
Like wasps swarming me with regrets from the previous night
As friends, seek advice on the consequences from the party
Four missed calls
Each anticipating four different nights
From the same party
We all know it’s inevitable
But we never take our actions into account on the night
The morning after

Beatrice Ryan

We Are Confused

We are confused,
Lost for words,
Don’t know what to say,
Coz there’s too much to say,
Yet there’s no where to go,
Nothing to see,
Nothing to do,
No one to hear the words we want to say ,
So we don’t say anything,
Pretend we’re lost for words,
That we are confused,
When we’re the only ones thinking straight.

Trudie Ní Cheallaigh-Thapa

We Are

We are a sea of green
When we are bored, we look to the west
We are a sea of teen
We are as you may have guessed

Anon

The Thump

That was the thump
That changed my life
I thought this was it,
Now the afterlife
The sirens fade
I was too afraid

Months go by
I thought this was goodbye
Vincent’s to Dun Laoghaire
I got so dreary
Never the same again
Why don’t I just jump of Big Ben

Anon

Untitled

I wake up at seven and roll my eyes to heaven,
The day is waiting as is the embarrassment,
I walk through the gates I see me mates,

As I read ahead the teacher said,
To read out loud with the dyslexic brain in my head,
As I stutter through the paragraph one word sticks out,
That I don’t understand an leaves me in doubt.

As I wait for the laughter to stop I smile and join in,
But nobody knows I’m crying within.
And once it stops I go grab a mop because I need to become a cleaner,
The school couldn’t be meaner.

Anna Martin and Ella Horgan

My Dog

My dog is a ginger god
With his morbidly obese bod,
His big brown eyes stares at me
As he lifts his legs and takes a pee,
We walk on to the beach
He refuses to get into the water like an adamant peach,
I return him home with no trauma
Then he goes off into a coma.

Aisling

It Was the Gin

Harmless fun with my friends
I mean what could go wrong?
It should’ve been just a night in
Wasn’t meant to have lots
Started taking some shots
I’m convinced that it was the gin

I got sick on the floor
The fun was no more
My pyjamas were thrown in the bin
Ended up in the shower
Felt like my final hour
I’m convinced that it was the gin

Woke up the next morning
Friends were all snoring
Felt bad with the state I was in
I won’t drink again
It’ll mess with my head
Now I know it was the gin

Kira and Ciara

Sunny May Days

I remember sunny May days,
Last year when I first knew you,
You seemed interesting and you seemed interested,
Like you wanted to know me as much as I wanted to know you,
But now I know you better,
And I’m not so sure your intentions were the same as mine,
But I’ll never know for sure,
Because you’re so disinterested now,
But is that just a show?
Do you still feel the same as I thought you did on those sunny May days?

Anon

One

One is a show off,
One has the skill,
One has the belief even when we’re down one nil.

One is a messer,
One doesn’t care,
One is afraid of failure although the potential is there.

All completely different,
Different styles of play,
What all tight knit teams are, at the end of the day.

Cara Bourke

Untitled

We always have friends
To go out on the weekends
We always have friends to make bad decisions
But only on one condition
We all should look like fools
And break the rules
Get in trouble
And suffer the consequences
Until school comes to their senses

Clodagh Nash

Why we Need Feminism

Because women are being raped and tortured every minute
Because women and being violated and abused every day
Because women are are being forced into brothels and prostitution
Because women are afraid to walk alone
Because women feel the need to put their keys inbetween their fingers
Because women are being told not to use earphones walking outside
Because women are told to cover up
Because women are being called sluts
Because women are shamed for being women
Because women are strong
Because women are powerful
Because women deserve to be treated equally
Because women deserve to be treated like human beings
Tell boys that they cant get a woman just because they want her
Tell boys that women need to be respected
Tell boys that woman arent going to obey there every order
So how about we stop saying boys will be boys
And say boys will be held accountable for their actions.
Its time for change, will you?

Eva

Pick

My mum has always told me
You don’t have to pick one thing to do for the rest of your life
But then I come to school
And teachers constantly ask me do you want to do
When I say I don’t know
They start suggesting and suggesting
None of them interest me
I say I’ll go to college and figure it out later
But they tell me to pick a career now
Pick a career
Pick.

Alannah O’Hanrahan

My Heart

My heart aches my body quakes
My depression is not a messin
Laggin, waggin I need a naggin
I want to cry but I don’t want people to pry
People think I’m alright but they’re not right
Debts to paid and boys wanting to get laid
I have dreams of going over the streams
I have aspirations far beyond my limitations

Niamh Ralph

Dear Friend

I’d wish you’d stop whining,
Complaining,
Being so draining
It’s not so entertaining anymore

You’ve become a bore,
Chore
And a bit of a snore,
I can’t believe you’re someone that I used to adore

You used to be rad,
Mad
A great crackin’ lad
Now you just look really, really sad

I want answer for
This Mental War
A back door
An exit to go for

Kim O’Brien

My Favourite Part

My favourite part of going away is always coming home
No matter where I’ve been,
An adventure far and wide
Across the seven seas
A stroll around a vibrant city
A plane up in the clouds
All of this amazing
But nothing like,
The wooden floor boards creaking,
The mug of Barry’s tea
The pouring rain outside
The fire blasing p warm
All of this is home
All of this is me.

Molly Walker

Untitled

3 pm and I’m chugging cheap cider
With broken people
With storms brewing inside
Using each other to escape loneliness

3 am and I’m still awake writing a poem
If I get it all down on paper
It’s no longer inside of me
Threatening the life it belongs to

Emily Cosgrove

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