The spotlight hits cobbles; the crowd starts to shout,

Dublin spins louder with each pour of stout.

 

The city says “try it,” I’m game for extremes,

I’m queen of the chaos, the craic, and the dreams.

 

The pints line like soldiers, the wit takes its throne,

I drink to my courage, my dreams carved in stone

 

My ancestry hums in the walls and the rain,

Their story still breathing, renewed through my name.