Mrs AndrewsYou are the man, who has everything he's ever dreamt of.
Right?
Wrong.
This is the day where my truth arrives,
The day when I release my views on truth, pain, love.
You think your silence can hide the untrue love,
Silence cannot be your alibi forever,
Silence is the give-away,
The evidence.
Behold the truth I know,
The countless clues I see.
Day to night you carry that gun. Why?
Protection?
Or fear?
Hide those fine lady friends of yours,
Flashing their bonnets and wearing no wedding ring.
Is it my love that drives your desire?
Or the dead child that haunts your dreams.
Upon this vivid morning arrived the fair,
But you brought me, here.
To sit upon this vivid chair.
With that blasted gun,
How many has it helped to end?
Hearts I mean.
Our author,
Swirling colours and light,
Left a place in my lap.
For what?
Nothing.
Too serene this hill.
Orders by your word?
Obviously.
Finally, it is your time.
Tell me the words you've been wanting to say,
End me. End this child. End my heart.
Leave your evidence binding gun,
Pick your life up once again.
Wow! What a striking and powerful evocation of her anguish and pain. This is exceptional and agonisingly charged writing, full of brilliant flourishes. Well done!
ReplyDeleteI love the way you interchange statements with wry and sarcastic rhetorical questions.
I especially like her interrogation over the gun, and that brilliant line(s): "Hide those fine lady friends of yours, / Flashing their bonnets and wearing no wedding ring."
You have also captured perfectly the style of a monologue - it really seems like she is SPEAKING her thoughts.
And a stranger would not believe this was a 13-year-old writer: trust me. :)
Thanks sir! xDD
ReplyDeleteI never knew that it would really be so good.
=o
Really sir? Woah. I hope I don't seem 'too' old.
*grins*
showoff :| hehe jokin dat woz nng!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteThanks sabz!.xDD
ReplyDelete