When the Music Stopped

Content warning: References Manchester bombing.




I was shocked when someone bought her that album.
It’s a Christmas present, my step-daughter told me.
But she’s only eight, I gasped to my husband.
She doesn’t know what the lyrics mean, he said,
but he agreed they were a bit risqué.

A couple of months ago she stopped singing those songs.
Had her mother confiscated the CD? Secretly, Ariane Grande was my guilty pleasure,
and I felt ashamed I’d reacted so terribly to my step-daughter’s admiration of her.
It’s not for me to decide her music tastes.
Being a lover of words I should have embraced the meanings, not criticised them.

This week something horrific happened in our country.
Could she have been there?
Would she have been that eight-year-old having the night of her life before it was taken away so cruelly?
The next time she stays with us, I will hold her that little bit more tightly,
and I will let her sing her precious heart out to any song she wants to.


About Donna-Louise Bishop

I'm a writer, freelance reporter, creative writing tutor, and blogger, living in the beautiful county of Norfolk UK. In my spare time I am also a wife, a mother to three boys, and a human washing machine.
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4 Responses to When the Music Stopped

  1. Donna-Louise, I think this is a lovely personal perspective to share about your feelings with the Manchester terror attack. Many other people, myself included, are having similar thoughts going through our heads.

    The last line of the second stanza is my favorite.

  2. Beeray says:

    It’s terrible how it had to end. It’s tragic and heart breaking and I always ask myself, why do I need such tragic news that would make me want to hug my kids a little longer. I should always do that.

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