Lucan Community College, Dublin.


Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme,
Have a beat or stick to time,
Because poetry can change
Depending on the line

Poetry is imagination,
Pure emotion and heart
Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme
Like i said from the start

A poem does not need,
To be explained re-arranged or torn apart,
If the poet is truly smart
Then poetry is a work of art.

Lifes Odyssey

Late out tired its summer
Early in cold its Winter
Gaze upon a setting sea
Morn upon life’s Odyssey
Feed the pain let Summer speak
Back to winter, Cold and bleak
Gaze upon the setting star
Morn upon our hopes so far.


Revenge is the blood on the mattress
It sinks, it seeps
It stains

The blood spilled will never be
As sweet as when first spilled
The blood spilled will never be
As red as when first spilled
It sinks, it seeps
It stains

Years from then,
When the blood once spilled stained to brown
And the pride once felt
When first seeing who you really were
Sprawled on a mattress

As a gruesome display
Now gone, now shame
The realisation sinks
That you cant erase stains
It sinks, it seeps


Stress, pressure, anxiety
These are emotions we are all too used to,
They effect us all differently,
And some more severe
The heavy feeling on the heart,
the lungs feel like they will rupture

Physical pains that are not really there
Seeing yourself as weak,
invisible and not good enough
The body vibrating and sweating,
Tears building up in the eyes

The feeling of judgement,
And a million thoughts flying around the head,
The worst part is sitting there,
Pretending those feelings don’t exist,
Pretending everything is fine,
That’s not weak, that’s pretty strong.


What is love?
Coming from a religious home
Everyone expecting you to be some nun who hibernates
Away from the rest of the world praying,
Fasting and worshiping 24/7?

What is love?
Seeking love in the materialistic things in life
Because you feel you’re missing something
Even though your parents gave you everything
growing up and being told that
“Skinny” is the “beauty standard”

But being “skinny” means you have no insecurities?
“You’re a twig, eat more, gain weight, are you hungry?”
You can’t get offended though,
Because you’re the “beauty standard”. right?
Getting called a n****r at the age of 10
By your own class mates because you’re “different”

What is love?
Seriously. what is love?
Loosing sleep over school assignments
That won’t mean anything 5 years from now?

What is love?
Getting told you’re ugly because you have acne
“Fix your face, fix your body, fix yourself”
But you can’t get offended because it’s just banter
What. is. love?
Love is just word if you think about it.

Maybe Some Day

Do you every feel like you’re living on autopilot?
Like something is off but nothing is actually wrong,
And every week is short but everyday is painfully long.

I get up each day and do the same old same old same old,
I wrap myself up in tasks and trials,
Just so maybe some day ill have a story to be told.

Nothing But Myself

Now is the time,
Where I will start to shine,
Being nothing but myself in and out.
Even if it leads to a shout.
I will be proud of who i am,
Expressing my emotions to my friend Sam,
Feeling confident and never alone,
Knowing my safe place will always be home.

The Player

The string buzzes along the frets
A note rings true as plenty do too
A blue ballad formed from scales unbalanced
Bent notes scream in kind of the player
The shuffling rhythm steady in it’s swing
Thrilling notes thrill the crowds
The burning tubes project the sound

Random Words

If I’m trying to write a poem
With absolutely no thoughts,
I cant even describe what I would express,
Or whatever I have fought.
If I ever felt blank,
Or empty to the core,

I’ll just try and find random words
To rhyme and then rhyme some more.
I woke up today in my very comfy bed,
Rose from my grave with vertigo to my head.
I look outside my window to be blinded by the light,
Of a 7 am sun, brightened up my walls of white.

I look down into my garden and see a small slimy trail,
All to lead to a lonesome garden snail.
I don’t have much time to finish this poem,
I all made this up so I can just go home.

My Club

From the gates of D8 in a stadium that’s so great,
As you enter the smell of alcohol and kebabs radiate.
The people you meet so crazy and whacky,
‘The Richmond Park Army’ a name that’s so tacky
The chants that declare we hate Rovers and Bohs
The Dublin City accents with their
This That These and Those

It could be the people in the ground
Or the players on the pitch,
Everyone is together in the stadium built in a ditch.
Sometimes we win, most times we lose,
Some people don’t care as long as they are on the booze,
Everyone is part of a club that we all think is class,
I’m so proud to be a Saint, a club on and off the grass


Football is my favourite game
I train and train to earn the fame
Defend or attack I’ll do my best
In hopes to be better than the rest.
Give me the ball , I’m ready to score

Hopefully one day Jurgen Klopp will be at my door
Holding a contract for me to sign
I knew my dream would be a reality some time.
Liverpool FC is everything we dream
This club is certainly more than a team
They’re playing at the very top

While fans are chanting on the Kop
We’ll constantly win home or away
Sing and celebrate with pride


I love my cat
My cat is great
He eats his chicken
Off a plate
We eat and sleep
We cuddle and play
He makes me happy
Every single day


Thinking of you makes me sad,
Thinking of you is really bad,
Thinking of what we had,
Now I’m thinking that I’m glad.


Something I love has to be club hurling,
Following the seniors campaign,
Its just toe-curling,
Parnell Park or The 12th Lock
On a Saturday night,
1 to 15 have put up a fight,
Winning brings joy and delight,
The seniors tog in after a hard slog,
Going home to sleep like a log.

My Place

Born and raised in Lucan
This is my life
I want to make the queen my wife
Man City will win the league
Phil Foden is my cup of Tea
Grew up in the back of Manny
Coady is so bloody Jammy
The smelly feen doesn’t wash his pits
His favorite bird is a bluetit

Irish Football

The Irish national team,
Oh it feels like a dream.
Haven’t been in a tournament
Since 2016 when we had determent.
After all the disappointment
I still can’t hide my excitement.

There has been many ups and downs
Like Shane Long scoring against the German Clowns.
I will always support my country
And they will always stun me.
I am proud to be Irish
And them winning something is my wish.

Escaping School

School is really the opposite of fun
And makes you feel bad if you are dumb
I want to leave now and never come back
But I know my mam would give me a slap
I’ll have to endure the pain for now,
And live my life just like a cow
So I’ll show up at school with a smile on my face
But soon ill be gone without a trace.


Ragnick’s at the wheel, tell me how bad does it feel,
They lost to Watford, Wolves and West Ham,
Ole was a PE teacher without a plan,
Maguire’s a fridge,

Shaw is too big, next year they’re going down,
Varane’s injury prone, got bashed 5-0 at home,
They’re worse then Boreham Wood, now its understood,
Man U are in the Mud!!!!!!


I love school
Most people say they hate it but I disagree
It brings young people together
And in the end we get a degree
Its true that it can be boring and torture for some
But like the conversation and discussion in subjects
And i will be here for some time to come