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A Loving Daughter

A loving daughter, fully grown,

The proudest mother’s picture shown

To those who really wish to see,

As well as those who’d rather be

Left alone. But they are drawn in

By the effervescence of her skin;

Her eyes; her smile; her face –

A heavy hole that nothing can replace.

 

The emptiness of a sudden lost love

Transcends boundaries enforced from above,

Restricting minds to physical space

And time that binds:

“I'd take my daughter's place, if only I could.”

The He appeared, in His black hood.

“Would you rather I take your head instead?”

“What hope have I now? My daughter is dead!”

 

The mother’s voice was not unheard,

The beast stood poised, hung on her every word.

She felt she had expelled all faith

In keeping her beloved safe.

The beast said, “Listen, now, I love her too,

And this equals the love that I have for you.

I don’t want you to die, I want you to live!

You cry for hope, but what more can you give?”

 

The only known cure for the heartbreak you endure

Is written in the pages - a remedy for the ages - 

The healing power of the ever-passing shroud of time.

And apologies for uttering such things through the

Playfulness of rhyme.

Time’s vast gravity and immensity will ensure

That a mother’s love will never be lost

To the daughters they adore.

Morgan Phillips 4.jpg

© 4OE. 

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