CLONMEL 2025

Clonmel stood still at times in 2025,
as if holding its breath
between what it was
and what it might yet become.

Shop shutters spoke louder than footsteps,
echoing stories of struggle,
of lights switched off too early,
of dreams postponed rather than abandoned.

We watched familiar faces disappear
from streets that once knew their names,
and some days the weight of it all
sat heavy on the town’s old stone heart.

Yet even in the quiet,
there was movement.

There were hands that reached out,
cups of tea offered without questions,
volunteers showing up
when systems fell short.

There were voices refusing to be silenced,
artists, carers, campaigners,
people who loved this town too much
to walk away from it.

Clonmel fell down in 2025,
but it also got back up.
Bruised, perhaps.
Tired, definitely.
But never broken.

And now we look toward 2026
with cautious hope and stubborn belief.

We hope for streets that feel alive again,
not just with business,
but with belonging.

We hope for homes instead of hostels,
support instead of silence,
and understanding where judgement once lived.

We hope decision-makers listen,
really listen,
to the people who know this town
because they walk it every day.

Most of all,
we hope Clonmel remembers itself�"
not as a town in decline,
but as a community still fighting,
still caring,
still here.

2026 does not need to be perfect.
It just needs to be kinder, fairer,
and braver than the year before.

And if hope has an address,
it still lives here,
between the Suir and the hills,
in a town that refuses
to give up on itself.