On Friday 19th September, like so many other rebellious butterflies, my heart finally gave way to the sadness welling up inside and I took to my bed to sob in broken exhaustion. I can never express how grateful I am to the many friends from across the world, of all political persuasions and none, who sent emails, messages or picked up the phone to tell me simply that they were thinking of me. It really helped and I am sure every person involved in the campaign had that same heartache and has been renewed by someone special who allowed them to feel love amid despair.
One message broke my heart though. For lying in my bed, a little line came through from my precious Amelie who used her mum's old phone to send a bbm. It simply read:
"Mum, I'm so sorry that it's a No and I don't want you to feel sad about it. Love Amelie, the Ninja! xxxx"
Nothing could have meant more to me but as she came later to try to stop my tears, I felt a new pain. I only hope that she does not understand its truth.
Of those
arms which come to comfort
Her mother,
so broken
From dreams,
early wakings stole.
Though for
me she tenders, to
Wipe away my
sorrow,
I must
conceal the agony,
That it is
for her I weep.
Little eight
year old bones,
Your heart
would stretch them to infinity,
Your courage
and compassion
Will always
make me proud.
But we
failed you. I know
Such cruel
feelings will not leave me.
Can un-sing
September’s song.
If I could
bury a seed
Far away
from germination,
Hide it
blindly from your heart,
That no
roots would there entwine.
I do not
want your childhood to
Rue this
misadventure.
Though your
future may be stolen,
MY task it is, to steal it back.
It must not
be yours.
Nor to your
generation,
Can we leave
this un-won legacy
Dearest
innocent and friend.
Cocoon
yourself my comforter,
Feed on your
mother’s hope not tears,
When we have
swallowed up our sorrow,
Our wings
again will conquer fear.
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