When we were little
The days were easy
The days were free.
Little sister, big brother.
We played, we laughed
We had such fun.
Some days we argued
Some days we fought
Little sister, big brother.
Thru school years
You looked to me
I looked to you
Always ready to fight
One anothers battles
You did for me
I did for you.
Little sister, big brother.
And then Life got in the way
You went your way, I went mine
We grew apart.
The years past and now we are old.
Little sister, big brother.
Now the Darkness comes for you
Now the Time is near.
I will stand beside you
I will calm your fears.
Little sister, little sister
Would that I could
This battle of yours
I can not fight.
This is truly beautiful and I am reminded of the stories my grandmother once told me of herself with her three older siblings but particularly her big brother. He died a few years back and she never got to say good-bye and never found out until after her stroke. This poem helped me to imagine the way my grandma and her brother must have been like. Great read and write.
That's how I feel about my younger brother. I wish I could have protected him and kept him safe. What can we do? Only so much, it seems. The love between you and your sister still lives, and will never die.
this made me cry. that's all i want to do with my little sister. i love her so much but won't speak to me though to her speak to addictions. i used to take care of her and now it's goingon 4 yrs we won't talk. all i want is to show her this tell her. when i see her right now in so much pain.
What a lovely tribute to your sister. The pictures you included added such a lovely touch to your work. I've known many who've let life get in the way of their relationships but love always wins.
Outstanding tribute.....of deepest love and relished memory........Well crafted and flows beautifully.......It urges me to think fondly of the many blessings I have in my life.....Thank you for sharing my friend.
This is truly beautiful and I am reminded of the stories my grandmother once told me of herself with her three older siblings but particularly her big brother. He died a few years back and she never got to say good-bye and never found out until after her stroke. This poem helped me to imagine the way my grandma and her brother must have been like. Great read and write.
An "old man", not by choice in the sense of years since I am five years older than dirt and two years older than baseball. Age is simply a state of mind and that being the case then my mind tells me I.. more..