He raised her high so all could see
But in a crystal cage
And praised her in his poetry
The wonder of the age
He said that she was all his life
Yet kept her trapped within
Was this the way to treat a wife
Or was it mortal sin
She laid a trap, her love the bait
And waited in her lair
He'd never guess his final fate
'Til she cut off his air
She said that she would always love
Yet wanted just to own
Her touch was iron inside a glove
Her heart was made of stone
I see each story in the art
But which of them is true?
Which lover takes the victim's part
And which of them is you
Not everything is black and white
There's colours and there's grey
Sometimes both sides may be quite right
Most lives are built this way
Your Mother's view is not the same
She doesn't have your eyes
It doesn't mean that she's to blame
I'm pretty sure she tries
I have four children of my own
And sometimes we agree
Their views have changed as they have grown
They're not the same as me
It's very hard, for young and old
To walk another's road
Some metal bars are purest gold
Some just a heavy load
There's just one thing you should recall
When she is smart or dumb
I bet she'll love you through it all
Your Mum is still your Mum!
Honorable mention
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