Presentation Secondary School, Mitchelstown, Co.Cork

Fly High

A bird, falling out of its nest
He flaps his wings and tries his best
The ground just down below
He wishes for it to be a soft meadow
He inches closer to the ground
Hoping for his life to be found
His wings begin to fly,
It takes all his courage to get by
The ground begins to steady
As he is now begging to be ready
He flies high into the sky
Not thinking about the life he left behind mid- fly.

Label Stains

School has never been a friendly place
The cold divisions in groups that can only be breached by the urge for a new member to allow growth
There will always be outcasts
Labelled for something they did
How they look how they speak
Any small cut they can pick at they will peel into a large scar
They name you and it stuck like a tag
Stuck itself onto you
It’s never going away
No matter how hard you pull
No matter the amount of tears that lubricate the grip it grips harder
Anyone who is the meet you in the future will only know you by the tag
It defines you.
You are what they want you to be what they made you.
Oh well. It’s better to pass in the shadow of the unknown the played they fool
You may never hear the words but it doesn’t mean they aren’t there
Even the most overpowering suffer to the words of the foul mouth that speaks them
No amount of soap will erase what’s been said
The shirt is stained by the glue of the label

Little Bird

The little bird leaves the nest
Now the mother may never rest
A lot of worry she must now endure
Is her little birdie safe ? She can’t be sure
The little bird is feeling homesick
Missing his bed made from sticks
The little bird is riddled with fright
His siblings finally enjoying the peace and quite

The Hard Truth

From going to plasters
And bandages can fix everything
To here have a smoke of this and a drink of that
It’ll fix it. When did we go from plasters and bandages
To drugs and alcohol?
Teenagers are just kids that are expected to act like adults
But will not be treated as an equal.
Then everyone wonders
How are they so damaged, they haven’t even been through tough times?
But they tell is we’re not good enough and
To be grateful as our parents have given up so much for is to be were we are.
And that’s the hard truth of being a teenager.

Hard Life

Life is hard. You can’t do this. You can’t do that.
“Go back to the kitchen” the boys yell in class as I’m sat
Worried if I’ll get the same opportunities as them.
“The pay gap isn’t real” they laugh.
Yet they didn’t have women fighting for years
Even sacrificing their lives for us
Men still think we have it easy.
They don’t know how hard life is for us
Just because we are women

Society Today

You feel judged and stared at everywhere you go.
They judge you on the clothes your wear if it’s considered normal .
They judge you on your looks if you look pretty enough.
They judge you on how you act and if your acting in the right way.

Bad Love:

Love will hit you into the face and give you two black eyes and a broken nose.
Love will break your knees and elbows.
Love will even drag you around until you beg for forgiveness.
But in the end it’s all we want,
Is to be loved

The Quiet

In the quiet of day,
We see ourselves.
In the noise of school, housework, moving,
Activism just to survive,
We drown ourselves.
Ten times better,
Just to reach the same point, never knowing
What’s happiness and what’s a career?
What’s love and what’s validation?
But who are we in the quiet of day,
With our purest friends and trusted family.
Who are we when we know boys aren’t looking,
When the earth isn’t collapsing,
When injustice doesn’t define us,
When the day stops spinning?
In the quiet of day,
Who are we?

Teenage years

People say they are the best
Finally flying out of your parents nest
What they don’t talk about is insecurities
And societies impossible needs
What how to look and what to do
Until you’re unable to be just you

The Crash

The engines growling, hungry for a race
Lights out and away we go he shouts
They drive away striving for victory unaware of what’s about to happen
One hundred fifty two, two hundred, two hundred forty one. Fire.
The sudden wave of the red flag like they are trying to call a bull
but this time it was a bull of fire surrounding the barriers and the car
Silence fell on the track everyone returned to the start.
But all we could see is the fire, no sign of the driver.
The kids in shock thinking of death.
Extinguishers doing nothing to calm the raging fire invading the air with smoke.
But suddenly we see an outline.
Its him..

The Long Week

Waking up as it is almost noon,
Knowing school is coming too soon ,
Saturday and Sunday the days that give me joy,
Then Monday with work to do and teachers to annoy
The weeks go so slow I could cry
When we leave I cheer in my head goodbye
I never have enjoyed being in school
But when I leave I feel myself which is cool


Expectations are too high
Expected to dress a particular way,
Expected to to have a good day,
Expected to not go to bed late,
And go on regular dates.
Expected to be active on ur phone,
But also get things done.
Expected to have good grades,
While also having a social life
And aiming to become a good wife
Expectations are too high.

FAI Ireland

Ireland won a soccer match yesterday
4-0 against Qatar
Qatar are in the litter
Robinson scored a hattrick
what a kick
football didn’t come home in euro 2020
It went to Rome
Ireland will win the world cup


I like roast potatoes
Very yum
I also like normal potatoes
Also very yum
And don’t forget my croquettes