Summerhill College, Co. Sligo

Tired of This

 

I’m tired of being treated like I don’t belong in this land,

I want to stop cursing at people in a language they don’t understand,

I know I may not be from these soils,

But it’s not my fault we’re experiencing these turmoils,

 

Tired of the blame going to “my people”,

Tired of being scared to leave my house,

Tired of hiding my face from everyone,

I’m tired of this.

 

 

Path to Your Dream

 

We live in a world,

Where people expect everything given to them.

They refuse to work for it,

They refuse to adapt for it,

They even refuse to be seen making an effort for it,

Yet still they expect to succeed,

Yet still they expect it to work out,

That in the end they’ll get the dream job,

That in the end they’ll get all they want.

And while they do this,

They want others to act the same,

They slow others down,

They try to trip others up,

They call it weird or strange,

That you work for your dream,

And suddenly you don’t fit in,

If you are seen to work,

If you are seen to try,

But you must try all the same,

Because you only ever get what you deserve.

 

 

The End of the World

 

The end of the world is upon us

People now fear when getting on the bus

As we fail to see the bigger picture

As the problem at hand is the point of fixture

As we worry about this superficial progression

We ignore the minorities suffering oppression,

The children handling depression

As the world falls

We worry about the iPhone we use to call

Our friends who silently suffer

The lads get tougher and tougher

Blocking the world out

All they want to do is scream and shout

But no one is about

Because the world ended a long time ago

Because we worried so much about the to and fro

 

Masculinity

 

Masculinity is trying to become the best man

However this act of behaviour is frowned upon

For what sacrifice

This wave of comfort is becoming a tsunami

Men now avoid uncomfortable encounters

Sadness is then created within

However this world can’t comprehend why

Bed is what attracts many others now

Some try to escape this vicious hole

But they’re sucked right back in

 

Off the Cliff

 

Daddy bird pushed baby bird off the cliff,

There were no tears, no shame, not even a sniff

Of fear, since this was normal. Our system

Of growing-up – a baptism of fire, of knives.

 

Off the cliff we prepare to fall, in two years

We receive our score, our points. Our fears

Of inadequacy are confirmed. We race into college,

Then into a job, into a mortgage, then into a mid-life crisis.

 

The knives of the CAO push us off the cliff, into our tombs.

 

My Passion

 

I sit down, raise my shoulders, lift my hands.

It’s a mindset shift; a shift from the outside to my thoughts within.

My fingers touch the ivory keys, gently.

There’s sound.

 

A sweet sound caused by me.

A sound that can be heard anywhere, yet I am unfamiliar with its source.

I am the sheet in front of me.

My eyes glance at the two sets of five lines. That’s all it is.

 

How can something so simple, so intricate, yet so complex to many,

With circles and stems create such a sound?

But it’s not just a sound, it is something that has the power to transport,

To heal, to comfort, to forget.

I decide what I want to do and how it is done – loud, soft, in between,

It doesn’t matter, it’s music and it’s art.

 

I process what’s in front of me.

What’s in front of me triggers my fingers to move in sprightly dance.

I can do it over and over, whenever I want, whatever I want.

It’s a passion, it’s what people know me for and it’s me.

 

A Drone

 

I am a drone waiting to go home,

An indentured slave waiting day to day

For an honest remark from a person of power

That doesn’t abuse, and doesn’t spin the truth.

I am not a menace to society,

So why do I get stopped and searched like there’s a bomb inside of me?

I’m so upset because these aren’t my honest thoughts,

This is just another requirement that has to be fought.

 

A Difference

 

A cosmos of space, full of fields, with a tiny difference causing a big change.

A difference of distance just right, not hot, nor too cold, from a bright white star.

A difference in species, made from a difference in evolution.

A difference enough to make intelligence.

Yet a small difference too much for most.

A difference enough to cause wars and oppression.

A difference enough to cause destruction

Between money, religion, colour and more

A difference that means nothing but ruins everything

 

Fear

 

I know what fear is

It follows me

Yet I am not a coward

Because the things I fear are scary

 

I lay awake at night

In uncertainty

The split my parents are going through

Is like the Red Sea

 

My mother almost died

Exactly a year ago

I found her in a pool of blood

What happened to her, I do not know

 

I feel the pressure

Of other’s expectations

I fear that I

Can not meet them

 

But my biggest fear of all

Is telling people these things

What I fear most of all

Is what emotions these will bring

 

Fingers

 

Fingers made from,

Standard bone

Playing slowly

A song of sound

Loud without meaning

And quite but still heard

Both music and noise

 

Alone

 

They tell you its ok not to be ok ,

But they do not care

sure they act like it but they do not want you to share

They do not want to get involved in your affairs

They do not want you to show your feeling cause

They are afraid it will be bare

Deep down you are just alone and scared

 

Locked Inside

 

We are locked inside from nine to four,

No walks outside; not any more.

Masks are worn all day through,

The corridors empty, nothing to do.

 

A prison is what I’d compare school to,

Trapped away, though we don’t want to.

Classrooms are like a big, spacious cell,

Making my time in school a living hell.

 

The Old Me

 

Only girl I give a conversation to is Siri,

My plans to marry, yes I want her clearly

I’m the chosen one,

They are not on my level,

They can’t even hear me,

Lately I’ve been praying,

I hope you can hear me,

Thinking about the old me,

I swear I miss you dearly

 

A Free Man

 

Addiction, conviction, extinction, fake system

Only 8 bars so i hope that you’ll listen,

With every decision I’m held back from my vision

To be a free man yes that is my mission

Another mistake don’t know what i’m missing

To get out of this place is all that im wishing

Shoes so shiny they must be glistening

This may be a rant but i deliver with precision

 

Lockdown

 

The same thing over and over

Night to day

Waiting and watching the world go by

5k to 20k to stay in your county

Madness is watching a fantasy go by

Without batting an eye

It’s hard to follow the rules when the

Rules are being broken by the ones

Making the rules.

 

Villainised

 

What would it be like to be a shark,

Caught in nets, and in bycatch for your

Fins, only to be dumped into the sea.

Discarded, unwanted, unneeded nets taking your

Friends and your family,

Or eating plastic and rubbish, that you mistake

For food.

Well who would blame you; your food is being taken away from you by giant machines

That take exorbitant amounts of fish and then you get the blame.

You’re villainised for taking ten people a year while that species takes tens of thousands an hour,

But at least it would be “cool”

 

Untitled

 

They aren’t addicts

They just roll up their problems

Lick there solutions

Light up there future

Inhale the good stuff

And exhale the bullshit

You live once

Enjoy the life your given

Because there is someone always out there

That’s less fortunate that you.

 

I Am

 

I am special

I am important

I am worth it

I can do it

I can conquer the world

I can stand up for myself and others

I am going to do my best

I am myself

 

A Doormat

 

I am a doormat,

I am the ground.

When I am lost,

I am not searched for or found.

I am a bird,

Whose wings have been torn.

Time after time,

My fake mask is worn.

 

How to Feel

 

I have no ideas

Do not know how I feel

Just lookin at reels

While I’m back on the wheels

I know where I came from

Still know I can stay something

Going up high

And I’ll reach for the sky

 

Games

 

I play games all the time

Usually it’s games about trucks

It is always entertaining but sometimes it is irritating

I drive carefully but not slowly

I haul tons of cargo in the trailer

And I deliver it to my client

After they receive it I will go on Youtube

And I watch videos until I force myself to sleep

 

What I Have to Do

 

A poem is what I have to do.

I can say that the sky is blue

and use words I once knew

But after that, I’ve no clue

 

Maybe something that rhymes

And reminds us of old chimes.

But it isn’t really a hit or miss

So I guess I’ll leave it just like this

 

I Am

 

I am the hay

The horses eat

I am the leather

You use as a seat

I am the metal on a roundabout.

Round and round like a sprinklers spout

The water grows the grass so green

Where someone has broken their spleen

 

Manchester United

 

Sunday afternoon in sunny manchester

United at home, they’re playing leicester

The teams kick off, and the crowd begins to roar

Rashford gets tackled and falls to the floor

 

Penalty to United, what a surprise

Bruno steps up, R9 in disguise

Everyone knows, Schmeichel stands no chance

Before he hits it a little hop and a dance

 

He strikes the ball into the net

Leicester fans eyes begin to wet

United have won, it ends 1-0

Champions of England, oh what a thrill

 

Untitled

 

As i stand at the core of my county unattached from this

 

Whole crisis that’s going on in this world

 

I stand there stranded, glaring all alone at the bright stars in the sky,

 

I take time to praise god for blessing me with another day

 

And for my loved ones to be all safe and sound.

 

And make one’s way round.

 

Sandy Beach

 

I was walking by a sandy beach

When i saw a cool fish

It was too far away

I could barely reach

 

I saw the sky and it was blue

During the lockdown

I could not realise

How much i grew

 

A Man

 

I am man

I am on top

I will make you drop

I am a man with a pen

I am a man of rage

I just made a song

With the words i am

Ur time is done

 

Dogs

 

I like dogs

Cuz they are de hogs

Underrated as hell

Just like my doorbell

The day i dont like dogs

Will be the day i die

Cuz i was told by may mate smog

That the racing is live

 

Irish Weather

 

Back from my training,

Wet cause it was raining,

The dirt has started staining,

My dirty boots have made my mum start complaining,

Irish weather is what I’m blaming

Parents don’t believe me and started shaming

If i run now my backside I’ll be saving

 

I Like

 

I like life

I wanna have a wife

I am motivated

I don’t care if I am hated

Chelsea is the best

I have pride to wear the crest.

Good morning Kanye,

School is hard

Feels like a psycho ward.

 

Hunted

 

I’ve hunted near, I’ve hunted far

I even looked inside the car.

I’ve lost my glasses, I’m in need,

To have them now so I can read.

 

Untitled

 

I want pot noodles

I need hot water

I also forgot a fork

I’m absolutely starving

Its curry flavour

Its “Super Noodle“ company

I’m gonna munch these up

I have a capri sun too

And max owes me 20euro

I’m on top YEHAW

Young fellas running cartoon bay

 

Poem

 

I am writing a poem

About writing a poem

And while I am writing this poem

I think about how I don’t like writing poems

And how poetry is a form of writing and expression,

But in my opinion is one of the more boring ways to so,

Thanks Stephen for the poetry

 

George

 

I am George

A monkey with no tail

There is so much to see

As I go along my trail

I pretend I am an explorer

Seeing so many different colours

I hope to see tall hills and big gorge’s

Because I am curious George

 

Untitled

 

I hate pasta its so overrated

Thats why i hate it

A Lot of people love it

But a lot also think its rubbish

I also hate poems

I don’t know what to write

Because everything i think of is crap

 

All I Do

 

I play games a lot,thats bout all i do

People call me a noob

I wouldnt say im cool

But I am neither a fool

Gaming makes you unique

In your own perspective

If you don’t do it

You change the real you.

 

Sunday Evening

 

Sunday evening again, just in from work nothing I hate more than the thought of school work. Early mornings I’m dreading the five days of school, listening to teachers waffle and enforcing rules. Kept inside like prisoners trapped to a cell, such enjoyment is brought when we hear the school bell.

Weather outside looking like Spain, while we sit in doors with continuous pain. Teachers barking as we stare out the window, leave me alone or you’ll leave here a widow. Leaving school with depression is just a given.

 

Untitled

 

Aren’t we all just sick of school, walking into the same stuff everyday nothing changes and the same old teachers constantly nagging and nagging about the same old stuff and it just gets tiring and boring. Teachers just constantly give out to you about the same old stuff “Stop talking, Do your work” it’s just a pain at this stage. We are in school with about 20 of our friends and they expect us not to talk. The government bringing back in TY students to sit in school to work and wasting 7 hours of our day. In Ty we should be on a reduced time table and spend our days getting real life help and preparing us for the future as that is what TY should be about and not sitting in school working like a dog.