Sam Pointon’s sister, Amy Cooper, was just 20-years-old when she was killed by a disqualified driver who was driving dangerously. Today marks a year since the tragic crash and since Amy died.

Sam wrote the poignant poem below about her much-loved and much-missed little sister, Amy (below) to coincide with the anniversary and with Bereaved Siblings Month.

Not Yet, Please

By Sam Pointon

When a star burns up and dies,
it leaves behind desolation,
a rip in space without a foundation;
‘not yet, please’, the universe cries.

What remains is called a black hole.
A never-ending chasm of deep dark,
no chance of light, not even a spark,
just like your death has left my soul.

Yet the world’s heart has kept beating.
The universe somehow hasn’t ended,
life still keeps moving as intended,
because every life, really, is fleeting.

But we deserved more from your soul.
Your clock shouldn’t have tolled its last toll.
I watched you die without a goodbye
and my world collapsed into a black hole.

When the star that was you burned up and died,
‘not yet, please’ my broken heart cried,
screaming out across the cosmic divide,
of a universe without you by my side.

Updated on: 13 November 2023