Art by Shane Gavin: https://jamartprints.com/artist/shane-gavin/
It’s times like these where time seems to slow
Every faint honk and shout from the street, every breath from the mouth the surrounding people take, only to release in an exasperated sigh
The cold wood of the table pressed against my forehead provides the sensory feeling needed to continue, a reminder for my brain not to fold itself inwards.
Words, in their neat and orderly fashion jumble together into nonsense as they cross into my head.
Twenty leftover minutes stretch out into the creation of the universe. In my head I am anywhere. The beach, the cinema, the bus home, anywhere but here.
But I am here,
It seems like I’ve always been here and it seems like I always will be
It’s times like these why I dread Irish class
Life Goes On
Life is tiring
Nothing can ever go right.
An endless line of worries and frustrations
This never ending struggle of dealing and getting on with things.
Doing the best we can.
But what we can do is never enough.
Discrimination for those people do not understand, the frustration, the pain.
My anxiety is endless and straining,
Will it get any better or will it just get worse?
Still life will go on, no matter what.
Speeding, speeding, speeding fast,
Towards our doom from our distant past.
Some of us choose to ignore our fate,
“We’ve survived everything to date”
Others choose to add fuel to the fire,
Most of them don’t believe it either,
But some of us choose to try our best,
To hit the brakes and warn the rest,
But our desperate calls fall on deaf ears.
I fear it’s too late to stop the train,
But I can’t just sit idle,
And watch my future pass me by,
On an adjacent rail
My future lies.
Why can’t we get out of division seven
At this point division six is my heaven
We don’t play an any, might be a mistake
Changing our positions might be a decision to make
The defense is wide open, we always get robbed,
But when the striker is through, he cannot be stopped
Someday we’ll get promoted, I’m sure that day will come,
But right now we need a miracle, or div 8 here we come.
Every day I get up and put on my mask
A mask to hide my fear
To hide my feelings
To hide all the worries that I feel beneath
That mask is my saving grace
As the days go by it’s just getting harder
Wanting to take off that mask yet I can’t
Turning into a new person so others can’t see the real me
Maybe it’ll be for the best and I’ll get some needed rest
If I let them all see
The real me
I hate the bad weather
I hate the people telling us that we have life too easy
I hate cheese
I hate people bragging about their success
Football is the best
Football is great
Messi is the goat
No other debate