2nd Place
‘Scotland’s Bairn’ by Sophie Taylor
A few remaining autumn leaves rustled
Along the path by the Loch
Before hurtling up into a spiral
With the high winds
They spun in a wild unison
Before scattering
The morning you were born
You lay frail and small
Weakened by your mother’s life
The strife was palpable with your father
A man whose pain never left – a vehemence
Festering, ready to implode
No-one able to resolve
The morning you were born
Taken home with the winter darkness
You would not stay long.
This tumultuous path runs through your bloodlines
Stretching far with the Highlands.
A nefarious energy lurked, ready to carry you off
To a death within the coldness of an institute.
Walls like this were built to smother innocence.
For years you would roam
Deserted to the birds, crying for release
Yet cries fall like mutterings in a place like this.
People came, then left, with burning skin
And stifled breath, ashamed by their weakness.
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