Lyndsey Jones, Free


I’m sick
I’m tired
Of hatred, of greed,
Of weapons
Bullies who bleed
Politics, red tape, numbers not names!
Weapons of metal
The spite of the tongue
The poisonous pen; ill-battles not won.

Your headscarf
Your body art
Your partner
Your creed
You shouldn’t need to hide it,
I wish you’d feel free
To breastfeed
To embrace
Reach out without fear
Of backlash and ridicule
Shaming nor jeers.

Our world is infected
By opinions of many
Wrong people in power,
My voice drowned by the penny.

Can we turn it around
So the world can be free?
Of blood-spill … and hunger … of superiority.
All men are equal; love is our goal;
One race that is human, one earth that is whole.

I will not hurt you,
You will not judge me,
You wish I’d be happy.
I wish you’d feel FREE.

The Poet
A Zumba Instructor and mum of two, Lyndsey Jones is a child at heart, even at 41! She blogs in her ‘spare’ time on anything and everything. With no literary background or experience but having battled cancer and depression, she writes from the heart. Visit her blog —

The Artist
Áine O’Hara is an artist and theatre-maker living in Co. Mayo. Her work is often narrative based. She has a BA in Fine Art from IADT, Dun Laoghaire and an MFA in Stage Design from The Lir, Trinity College Dublin. This image, I’m 25 and will never own a home, is from her current series on what it’s like to be a millennial living in poverty in Ireland.

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