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Shine Bright, Our Lovely Mom
In Loving Memory

Shine bright, our love, our guiding light,
Our lovely Mom, who gave us life and hope.
In the laughter of children you helped raise,
We’ll see your joy, your gentle ways.
With every tiny step they take,
Your spirit walks beside their wake.

The brightest star — I’ll see your glow,
As night-time owls begin their show.
Your voice will echo in the breeze,
The rain like tears upon my cheeks.
The magnolia blooms in quiet grace,
Your touch lives on in that sacred space.

Beneath the cherry tree we sit,
Upon the swing your brother built.
A feather drifts — we feel you near,
Your presence soft, your message clear.
The stream begins its healing flow,
Your love renews from down below.
And when the sun warms up our face,
We feel your warmth, your sweet embrace.

When the sun sets, soft and low,
We hear your whispers, feel you close.
When the moon is full and glowing white,
We know you're shining through the night.
And when December brings its snow,
We remember — and never let go.

Of all the love and memories dear,
Of all the ways you made life clear.
The gifts a mother’s heart imparts
Live on in children’s tiny hearts.
Through grandchild’s eyes and baby smiles,
We’ll see you there across the miles.

Living on, in all we do,
Forever, Mom — we carry you.
**
The Tower

I thought you had rescued me
from my tower —
the one I’d waited in, silently,
believing someone like you
would climb the walls
and carry me home.

So I dared the edge,
jumped heart-first into fire,
believing your hands would catch
what your eyes promised.

I risked everything,
tore down walls built in blood and silence,
and still, I came to you —
bare, honest, burning.

You blinked,
called it friendship,
as if my love could be shelved
like a book you weren’t brave enough to read.

Then jealousy clawed at your pride
when you saw me choose a flame
that didn’t flicker
at the first sign of truth.

And so —
you ghosted.
Not a word. Not a goodbye.
Just silence,
where once there was heat.

But hear this,
if only in the echoes:

I was the storm you prayed for
and the calm you couldn’t handle.
You didn’t lose me to another man —
you lost me
to your own fear.

And I?
I rise again.

Now I look from my tower —
not the one that locked me from you,
but the one that built my strength
to contain me,
and keep me high
above your shadows,
your thorns,
your claws.
Dark Knight
by Morning Star

You came like dusk —
a whisper cloaked in leather charm,
eyes like midnight,
hands like calm

You spoke in riddles,
kissed like more
pulled me through shadows
and begged me for more.

Batman my
Dark Knight.
You fed on my light,
sank your claws in soft places
where no one else dared bite.

You found the gentle in me —
and made it wild
just enough to taste it.
You made me feel chosen,
then ghosted like you’d never craved it.

I lit myself on fire
just to warm your cold.
Offered skin, soul, sanctuary —
love that was too hold.

And you —
you vanished into your cave,
left me bleeding in the daylight,
too fragile to be saved.

You said love —
but meant lust.
Said forever,
but fled at the first gust.

But now I wait —
not as your empty
but as a sword
a fire burning steady,
unbreakable, seen.

Come back, Dark Knight,
if you dare,
step from your shadows
and meet my glare.

You’ll find I’ve risen,
stronger, wild, alive—
not the girl you left behind
but the storm you can’t survive.

So come —
chase me again if you will,
but know I hold the power,
and I decide when to ****.

Because I’m the fire
that burns and wins,
the queen of shadows,
the storm within.

And if you want me,
you better come real—
‘Cause this time, Dark Knight,
I’m the one who steals.
“If You Call Me Morning Star”


You said my name
like it might cut you —
forgive the irony,
you whispered,
as if I don’t carry sharper things
between my ribs.

But if you call me Morning Star,
do it slow —
like a man who knows
he’s standing too close
to something that could undo him.

I’ve danced barefoot
on broken glass
and licked honey
from the wounds.

I’ve been the ache
in a prayer
you never dared speak out loud.

So don’t mistake this glow
for softness.
I am the flame
that wants you closer —
even as I burn through
every wall you thought would save you.

If you name me,
do it with reverence.
If you want me,
say it like sin
you’d confess again
and again.

Because I don’t just rise —
I haunt.
And once I’m in you,
there’s no forgetting
how Morning tastes
when it burns
like a star.

A fallen Angel once you saw
Apart

by Morning Star

No love is sent,
no love is read.
No love is given—
in my heart, they’re dead.

Maybe they always were.
I just couldn’t see.
They crushed me inside—
I thought it was me.

They hate me.
They use me.
They gave me no home.
Yet still they expect
to be honoured like queens on a throne.

But once I stood up,
spoke my truth, let it show—
and look what that earned me:
a cold, bitter blow.

Now they turn from me
like I’m a disease,
as if my pain
were meant to please.

So now I stand here
with an open heart,
and I ask God gently
to do His part.

To forgive their harm,
their silence, their scars—
because whether I like it or not…
we are a part.
Stuck in Time

by Morning Star

As I watch my little angel play,
laughing in the light of day,
I know I should be soaking it in—
his joy, his wonder,
his every grin.

I should be living,
but I’m just watching.
Always scanning the world
for what might go wrong.
Protecting him
is my only song.

But somewhere in the stillness,
I realise—
I’m not really living,
just holding my breath,
afraid of what’s coming next
to steal it all away again.

Dear Lord, just once—
let me rest.
Let me forget the weight in my chest.
Let me feel the night
without fear in my spine.
Just for one moment,
just one time.

She let me down—
that’s a wound I carry.
But does that mean
I should live in the shadow she left me?

She was only human—
and so am I.
But I have a chance now,
a reason to try.

I can be what I needed,
for him, for me.
I can break the chain
and set us both free.

My children don’t have to grow up like me,
afraid to feel,
afraid to be seen.
Afraid of joy,
afraid to shine,
forever stuck
in someone else’s time.
What Is Inside

I am a little fig tree,
small and unimportant,
planted in a quiet corner
where no one stops to see.

But with a touch of tender care,
a gentle hand and watchful eye,
I will grow beyond my size,
reach upward toward the sky.

At first, I’m just a fragile sprout,
easily overlooked,
but hidden deep within my roots,
a quiet strength is cooked.

Seasons pass and sun will warm,
and rain will softly fall—
each drop a whispered promise
that I can bear it all.

In time, the fruit I bear
will be sweeter than the rest,
a treasure borne of patience,
the work of love expressed.

If you look beyond the surface,
beyond what you first see,
you’ll find there’s more inside
this little fig tree.

More than size or stature,
more than bark or leaves,
there’s a world of hope and meaning,
far greater than it seems.

So don’t dismiss the quiet ones,
the small who seem unsure—
with care, they bloom and flourish,
their gifts both true and pure.

I am a little fig tree,
but give me time and space—
and watch how I will blossom,
full of beauty, full of grace.
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