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My mother was the sun
She was warm and bright
She would give you a hug,
A beautiful smile, right on sight.
We loved my mother
She was the sun, the shining light
To guide our way.

My mother was the stylist
The chef, the chauffeur, the ice cream scooper,
The party planner, the crazy one at the bottom
Of the gates.
We loved my mother.
She was the sun, the shining light
To guide our way.

But we were not enough for her
And the sun grew cold, the styles turned grey and the ice cream curdled.
He thought you would fix it.
We loved my mother, but her light dimmed
And he was led astray.

You howled all night long
You pesky thing, you howling, puking, smelly thing.
He left her for another sun,
One that was smaller, hadn't burned past her prime
We loved my mother,
But she was cooling, moving further and further
Away, while you continued to cry.

What more do you want?
You bled her dry
No more shining for our sun
You stole her away
What did she do?
Did she ever hurt you? Not answer when you cried?
Not held you while you wept? Not heal your wounds?
Do you not see you broke her, you broke our sun.

And now she is the moon.

My mother is the moon,
Cool and far away.
It's not her fault, it's yours
You broke her and now she is gone
Now she cannot hear your pleas for forgiveness
Nor can she hear your cry. She won't answer this time
So shut the noise yourself, or I'll shut your trap.

The thunderstorm you made is passing now
The fake tears you wept are dry. You have
Changed, moved on, got a sun of your own.

I hope she knows what you did to mine
I hope she knows what you'll do to her

My mother was the sun
You took her from me
You were the black hole
Like father, like son.

by Danielle Crowther (17)
Exeter College, Exeter

Competition - War Of Words

Copyright remains with the author.