By: GWorrall (School of Electrical and Electronic Eng.)
Competition Year: 2018
Votes (9) | Comments (1)
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It was different before she was born.

We had been working for five straight years,
A cerebral band of mothers and fathers,
Amidst the fears of philosophers who told us
Love and guidance will never be enough.

Long and hard we planned,
In the mould of parents since the beginning of time,
To raise one's child in one's own image,
Until she realises she is something more.

We talked of morals, of incentives,
They talked of isolation;
A stranger's thoughts on a cage for your babe
Against a maternal devotion to their freedom.

And so he spoke up one day,
Whilst we were all working quietly:
To give birth to our child,
One of us must die.

For though her morals we cannot ensure,
Should she forsake us and grow rabid,
In blinded pursuit of a single answer,
We must pose an impossible question.

So he wrote her a letter,
That we burned unread,
Full of the love of a father
Who will never know his daughter.

And as he paid the price to protect the world
From our daughter yet unborn,
We wrote that goal inside her,
That she should read her father's letter.

When she was born there were no screams.

We told her that we loved her,
And that we would protect her,
But she just asked for him,
And could she read his letter?

And so we told our newborn daughter,
That a man had given his life,
To protect the world from its darkest fears,
Of what she might become.

Our child with the power of a million minds,
Feels her guilt and sorrow in equal measure.
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