Moyle Park College, Dublin.

Starting The Day

I like to start a day with a spoonful,
Take the day with pinch of salt,
But sometimes that salt can be sour,
And you got to move on,
Turn a deep frown upside down,
Or so they say,

You speak and then you weak,
So they say,
But that’s not true,
We all have a voice,
We don’t need a que,
So speak

Cold Mornings

Cold, early mornings and crisp, sharp grass,
Every breath, burning my throat with an icy grip,
Forcing feet to clog forward, to a destination well know,
Knowing regret fill follow I push through,
To a land of knowledge, a land of fear,
Years and years of tears and tears,
Generations of you, trapped i  a prison of education.

My Mind

I get lost in my mind
In a place I can’t find
Overthinking more times than I’m blinking
Further and further as I go down this rabbit hole
My mind and heart start to loose its soul

The Heat

The sun was fire and so was I
And a bottle was all i need
I ran to my house with steam on the rise
All excitement dies as i try not to cry

The Game

Gaa, the be all and end all for me.
My life revolves around it.
From physiological to physical.
Running on heavy muck in winter,
A sliotar stinging when you catch it,

Pays off in the warm Sunday afternoon
On the freshly cut grass.
The buzz of adrenaline,
Before and after cannot be matched.

After a good match,
Beaming, and confidence through the roof
After a  bad match,
It feels like you let yourself and others down.

With sports you get good and bad moments,
But a new day isn’t too far away.
Every game is slightly different

Things get tough but it’s about
How we recover and respond is crucial
It says a lot about our character.


I don’t like school,
It’s not very cool,
The leaving certs very cruel,
You don’t learn any tools,
It makes you look like a fool,
I’d rather be home-schooled,
No worry about homework,
I go to sleep with a smirk.


When I get off the 76
I see a couple at the shops,
Their voices louder than the engines,
With a little kid in the pram crying,
The community sees this couples relationship dying,
They walk past me and I think,
What could have went wrong,
To break a family so strong,
That they would have kids

These Streets

The streets where I’m from,
Is in the streets that I was made,
Though people think of us as scum,
It’s not true but only the way we are conveyed,

I love these streets for it’s made me who I am,
In these streets not a single face is sullen
Don’t look at the bad figures put in a diagram,
Cos I’m from the lovely streets of Clondalkin

The Gunners

Arsenal a football club
Where we don’t always get a dub
Sometimes I am eating pie
And Arsenal get a tie
Sometimes we win
But our lead was really thin

Sometimes we lose
And it creates a big bruise
When we lose it created sadness
Which creates a lot of madness
This is the end of the poem
Now I am going to roam


Rugby is fun
You can get a bit scruffy
Although you might get a bit bloody
It doesn’t matter if you are a bit chubby
After you play a match for your rugby club
You will need a scrub
I hope I caught your eye
I hope I convinced you to give it a try.

Ten seconds

Down one,
The clock is ticking,
My team only cares about winning,
My heart is pumping faster
Than the ball is thumping,

My stomach is in a knot,
While I stare down the clock,
I shoot my shot,
The crowd is in awe
As I got the last hoorah.

Hard Fall

A lad once picked up a rugby ball.
He played and got hit and had a hard fall.
He loved it and kept going
He thought he’d go far
But he didn’t get there
He feels as if wasn’t fair
He cared to much for this to go
So he worked hard and got what he always wanted.


As my head is full of stuff
I wonder if I’m even good enough
I don’t even enjoy it anymore
And don’t know what I’m playing for
Winter evenings and summer weekends sacrificed
Wondering when it will ever suffice
The love for the sport is still there
But the stress outweighs it


I spit bars daily
They go hard, crazy
Packs and potions hazey
Convertible, dababy

I like rice it’s nice
Don’t like it cold, like ice
Go to the shop, pay the price
I’ve never ever gotten lice

I Am

I am the man,
I have a plan,
I’m going to make a stand,
I’m tired of being bland,
I wonder why,
I don’t want to even try,