St Angela’s College, Cork

Art by Christina O’Donovan https://jamartprints.com/artist/christina-odonovan/

 

A Truth About You

think about this,
you have the ability to survive anything
that is why,
despite all the storms made of pain and loss,
despite all the chaos,
all the hate that you have had to endure,
you’re still here and you are still going strong.

 

Today

Today is the day,
For I have seen the worst to be over
The terriers calls have finished
I feel as though I can find peace
The struggle has been lessened
His presence settled my hatred of myself
He taught me kindness, happiness and my self-worth
I have purpose now
The sunrise feels brighter than ever
Inspiring my daily mood
He swings his hands around me
Warming my heart
One day at a time.

 

Hurt

So many thoughts but so little words to explain,
The way in which I feel is pure pain.

Losing you, mom, triggered something inside,
Which I’m feeling more pressured every day to hide.

It’s as if months have passed now, I should be okay,
But mom, I hurt more and more day by day.

Confused may be a word I could use,
To tell you how much it means to lose.

I’m scared mom, I don’t know what to do,
I just wish I could tell you that I’m missing you.

 

Football Freedom

Catch that ball
Run the pitch
Run free
My escape.

 

I…

I have moved
I have changed
I have not been myself
I have picked a different path.

 

Routine

hockey, hockey , hockey,
all I ever do,
day in day out,
it’s an escape for me,
gives me great glee.

 

Seared into Memory

I was nothing but nice
And she didn’t think twice
Her words were a weapon
In almost every lesson
I kept it in
When it would begin
But each time I’d try
I would always cry.
But she didn’t know
That beneath my show
How I felt inside
Why I always cried
With my family issues
And packets of tissues
And how life in my home
Would never be shown.
Years have gone away
If I met her today
I would let her know
And to her I would show
That her words that hurt me
No longer burn me
But the scars that she made
Will forever stay.

 

This is a Poem

I don’t know how to write poems, as I’ve never had to
Actually, I did write a poem about a monkey once when I was younger
I enjoyed writing them during that short time, but I stopped as I got older
That happens a lot, not just to me, but to everyone
We enjoy things when we are young and innocent, but we learnt new words to describe the things we liked
Those words are then judged, seen as weird or odd
This prompted us to stop doing these things, for fear of being perceived as different
But then, we grow older again and realise that other people’s perception of us doesn’t matter
We are then able to do the things that we enjoy again.

 

Swimming

I’ve spent about 10% of my day swimming and the other 90% thinking about it
Not because I love it – I absolutely hate it
It’s a drug I’ve never been able to get out of my system, that buzz
The tiredness, tears, injuries
The lifelong friendships I would never have made without it
The time I will never get back
This drug changed my life, for better or for worse – nothing will ever change that.

 

Seeking Perfection

Looking in the mirror
She really doesn’t shimmer
She’s not Bella, Gigi or Kendall
She isn’t a beautiful baby doll
Walking into school everyone is so cool
Why can’t she change
Why is it always the same
Afraid to act a certain way
She doesn’t want to stay
She has to get away.

 

Make a Difference

We revel in people who are brave,
But never try for ourselves
We clap for those who stand,
And speak without hesitance to what they believe in
Yet we cower and hide behind possible offences when the spotlight shines on us
We are moved to tears when we are shown the horrors of the past, present and future
But continue about our lifestyle without a second thought to what we do each and every day
Why are we so afraid to change or be different?
Why does it take a person to simply say what we all think
For people to believe they are a hero?
When will ALL of us try to make a difference,
Without the fear of judgment or offence?
When will we as a people finally unite in change.

 

Row

Listen to the rhythmic rush of water,
Feel the oar bite and lock onto the river,
Adjust your grip,
And send the boat
Propel your fears and worries away,
Commit to every stroke,
Unleash agony on your every muscle
But take comfort in the vanishing of doubt
And questions of self-worth your mind may spout,
Oar in and oar out
Let the icy reassuring power fill your veins,
For as you row you confront your life and take the reins.

 

Summer

During summer I am happy in a different way
But when I realised I had two more months of enjoying life without a care
I start to dwell in the depths of my despair
I will miss the times like these
Chilling next to a warm ocean breeze
Lapsing up the warm sunny nights where
Me and the girls would talk all night
I wish summer would never end.