Read Poems by Dahlia Johnson

  

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My Little Sister

Born in the merry moth of June,

For my little sister I did swoon.

My little sister taken for granted,

we do nothing but fight.

We hate and hurt,

Yet never love.

She was my best friend,

Now she's my enemy.

She does not trust me,

not even to swat a bee,

I am the one who ruined it all,

The one who shut it off,

The care we felt for the other.

We used to dress in matching clothes,

holding hands and discussing loathes.

Now all we loath is each other.

I am the girl who seems so happy,

yet is really broken inside.


I miss the days when we shared,


Ice cream from a cone,


I miss the times we would,


stay up late at night,

Just to give each other a fright

I miss the hugs, the laughter and the jokes,


I miss the fun, the trouble, and the pokes

The tomfoolery and the horse play.


I miss my little sister

Copyright © Dahlia Johnson | Year Posted 2015