First Born
You came first
with your dark saucer eyes
missing nothing.
Your were promised
a gift from Mom and Dad
on my birth.
You took one look at me
and asked,
"Where's my toothbrush?"
It was the last of
your selfishness concerning me.
You were generous with
your clothes,
your money,
your humor,
your support,
your love.
You were my first idol,
my lifelong friend,
laughing at my eccentricities,
eternally protecting me from
anyone who might laugh.
You came first,
but disavowed it in the end.
When I'd tease that you'd
always be older,
You quicklly quipped,
"Not any more."
You left first,
Too soon,
So missed.
Wait for me.
I'll bring a toothbrush.
Copyright © Margo Singaliese | Year Posted 2017
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