St Colman’s College, Claremorris, Co. Mayo.

Art by Pat Byrne


Happiness, what is it,
People these days don’t know.
The pressures we are put under,
freedom to wonder is a no.
Be the biggest, the strongest, the smartest the best,
Everything is always a constant test.
But these are the standards we set our men,
Yet picking up a gun is easier than a pen.
Crying , what is it ,
Men don’t know.

Refuse to acknowledge feelings or
Lock them up and refuse to show.
These are the standards we set our boys,
Choosing to play with fire instead of toys.
We will thug it out and move it on,
Feeling like nothing more than a pawn.
Day by day we drive through,
Sticking to the standards
We set true.

Impossible Task

Living life day by day
Living life to the fullest has frayed away,

Which path to take with no direction
Seems like I’m in that life section,

No one knows what life has planned
Unless your in some movie like Peter pan,

A poem, a rap, a lyrical rage
I feel like I’m not of a sensible age,

An ode to the joy of being
I don’t think you get what I’m seeing

Life can go in multiple paths,
But knowing which one is a impossible task.


This is my home,
This is where I come from,
This is where I train from dawn to dusk,

This is where silage is drawn
And where cattle are fed,
This is where I’m loved and cared for

Where I love and care for,
This is my home
And this is where I come from.

The Club

From the ball going over the bar
To the man hitting it from far
And me after a rough night
Wanted to just start a fight
From the annoying defender
I just want to have a wild weekender
From the thrill of playing for your club
There is no better feeling after winning.


A man lost in the fields,
The cattle surround him,
Crushing him, suffocating him,
No air to breathe, no way to escape,
He is crushed and he is beaten,
The grass is green, the air is clean,
What can he do but feed them,
But as he looks over he sees,
The children are free.


He smiles in the morning
He smiles in school
He smiles at study
He smiles at training
When he gets home
He still smiles because he’s a happy boy

Winning Cups

From the football fields
Winning cups and shields
To school each day
Working away
And from my own home
Where I get time alone
To out in fresh air
Without a care

Sea Of Hands

I look at me now I’m thinkin, “Damn”
How proud of me I am

What I did, it’s nothin’ to sneeze at
Even if your allergies are bad

I’m up in a balcony in France
I look around, I see the fans

How they surround me in the stands
Probably could drown in a sea of hands


Wakes up
Is tired
Goes to school
Still tired
Comes home
Still tired
Next day repeat
Because I have to

My Zone

I can put it up
Take that shot hit it up
Throw it down
I can take that ball and throw it down
Balling out you aint gonna see me falling off
I’m on my own
Getting in my zone
Delivering like Malone

Third Years

When I walk into mantra
And see all the third years
They will stand in shock
I will see the fear on their face
And when I get to them
I won’t make them cry