Scoil Chaithriona , Glasnevin, Dublin.


Love can be sad.
Love can be bad. Hurtful.
A bad kind of love can be good.

It can make you realise
You deserve better and more.
Love can be great

Warm and wonderful.
But then what
What happens when it stops

You’re alone and that person is gone.
They took love with them.
Its hard to find it again.


Beauty within never fades
True beauty never disappears
As natural as the earth beneath our feet
Glows to show through the facade
Life may be green
The earth may be brown
Beauty as beauty, may never be found

I Can Do It

My mam doesn’t get it
She thinks I’m just like the rest
Nothing matters but tests
She doesn’t know that I want so much more
Then a 9-5 with my feet stuck to the floor
She tells me not to shoot for the stars
But they’re way too far

But I know I can do it
If she’d let me pursue it
She tells me study,
Study, study don’t take the risk,
Of course i get why, she’s afraid ill miss

But she doesn’t get what I know,
I think different to the rest,
She’s given me everything I have
Its her turn to be blessed
But she doesn’t get it

Not A Good Way

Born in the gallops
This city’s got a problem
My family don’t have a car
They have a life sentence
Crack spots and crack dens
R.I.P. in every ends faces onĀ  t shirts

Never gonna change
These boys riding around with rage
Life took for nothing
Burned motorbikes and mothers crying
Only make it out one way
And it’s not a good way


Life is unfair, it will full you by the hair.
Life is mean, it’s not what it seems.
Life is fake, full of love and hate.
I feel stressed and unhealed,
I to just breathe.

I feel scared and sad,
I can’t say anything
I’ll make someone mad.
I feel Jealous and nauseous
I need to be more cautious.
Someone please come help me see
That I can live life properly.

Male Rage

When I was born
My father buried anger in my chest
And called it a family heirloom
It burns under my heart
Like him
And his father
And his father
Male pattern rage
We can’t help it

Oh My Guitar

Wire goes in, Amp turns on.
Heart kickstarts, same old song,
The rhythm awakes,
I start off strong,
The strings, they scream,
When I play it wrong,
Panic sets in, fingers lose track,

Screaming gets louder, mind goes black.
Mistakes bleed, heart attack,
Every one step forwards, is 2 steps back
I try again from the start,
This time it sounds right,
I feel myself near the end, will I? I might
Confidence high, winning the fight,
I finish it floating, as high as a kite


Everyone is different
In their own perfect way.
Some people are more
than just straight, lesbian and gay.
All words hurt each person differently
Even if you don’t mean it.

If someone is different than you,
That doesn’t mean they deserved to be hurt.
No matter you say or do,
They could always
Bury their head in the dirt


Laughing with friends,
Subtle glances to the left,
The wrong word at the table,
Small looks over their head,
Joke in class,
Looking down at your hands,
Tears welling up,
Staring at yourself in the glass.


I talk about cats because i love them,
That feeling of their fur against my skin,
Their meows sound like the greatest anthem,
Constantly looking through the bin.
Some people say they are mean,
That they aren’t loyal,
But you can’t judge what you haven’t seen,
To me they are royal.

Summers Day

Life is a hot summers day down in Wicklow
Drinking from the garden hose,
Life is the fear of starting something new
because you’re convinced it’s too late,
Life is the cat walking across my chest
In the early hours of the morning,

Life is losing that lifelong friend
Life is walking home from the park in the pitch dark
with only a hurl to protect me from the monsters,
Life is thinking of that one person over and over
Even though you’ve met once,
Life is the slushies after school during the winter
Because it seemed like a good idea,

Life is the constant worry
That I don’t have enough time,
But when I think of everything I’ve written
I realise I’m not running out of time and
I have so much to look forward to

Better Days

I can’t read or write I’m dyslexic I tell my parents
They scoff
You’re too young to know that
I’m stressed out of my mind school too much for me
I don’t know what I’m doing I tell my parents
They laugh
You’re too young to know that
I feel useless I think my friends don’t want to be friends anymore

They sigh
You’re too young to know that
I stand there on top on the bridge watching the cars zip by
As my grip on the metal bars loosens
I let go this will put An end to all the pain
But I’m too young to know that.
I do not feel like this anymore,
this is how I felt around a year and a half ago.
I am fine now,
Just in case I alarmed you


You swim
You swim till you can’t breathe
Till you can’t move
Feel you heart beating through the water
Your arms smashing through the blue
Legs thrashing behind
But it’s quiet, your head is quiet
You swim till your head is quiet


Family is not the people you live with,
Not the features you share,
Family is not a war zone,
It’s filled with ones who care,
Family is not to hide,
Not to change how you feel,
Family is open,

To you know your love is real,
The blood in your family,
Doesn’t mean they’ll be good to you,
The real family, they’ll know it,
They’ll know before you do,
You may have grown up with them,

But how well were you treated,
Were you hiding in the corner,
While the screaming matches got heated.
Family is not blood,
Family is love.

They Do Not Listen

They do not listen to our pleas and screams
When we are screaming for justice on the streets
To be seen
By the people who sit on chairs pretending to be kings
Not listening
Not caring
Not sharing information that can set us free


You left me in the dark
You left me with no roof
All I had was her
She was there for me
She does her best to get us what we need

And to make sure we succeed
I do my best to make her proud
And be as brave as I can be
As she does the same for me
She is my hero.

After The Horror Movie

Sitting in my room at night
Something isn’t right
A presence out of sight
Sweat dripping from my head
An unwanted visit from dread
It’ll never end

The Past

Nothing I say comes out right
Lacking the ability to write
Considered weak cause I can’t fight
Tortured by my thoughts at night
The past always comes back to bite

No Need To Whisk

Will-o’-The Wisp
Baking Cakes In The Kitchen
Don’t Need No Whisk
I’m in charge like im Wilson Fisk
No Music In The Car
I Lost The Disk
Speeding Down The Road
I Love The Risk
Gotta Head Home Mam’s Making Lobster Bisque

So It Seems

Fut champs, fut champs
The stress it causes
Whenever i play
It makes me nauseous
Fekir and Benzema
Haunt my dreams
They are my nightmares
So it seems