Stuart Robertson - Photographer

She was always given two choices-

Do as we say

Or face the consequences

Teenage rebel

Took life’s knocks hard

Leaving dusty scores to settle

Along with marks of those times

Some given and others voluntary

A litany of scars

To reflect upon in later years.

 

The final act of family farce

On a balmy spring-time night

Dyed hair set alight

By a father’s ceaseless rage

A war of wills brought to

A head

 

Doors slammed

And this time for good

On choking wordless guilt

An old man left alone

With his regrets and

Empty inheritance

 

Now there’s a woman

With a fire in her guts

Proudly sporting rainbow locks.