A Poem to the Most Loving & Caring Sister anyone could ever get

Know I not the reason why I write this,

The urge, yet I have not to block or fight this,

"Question I cannot her care, love towards me,

And that's what in anger, makes me the more helpless I can be,

No happy memory is complete without her,

Be it as accomplices in a naughty prank or that of being a school topper,

Be it a class project or prevaricating to keep my character and image infallible,

Her prolific help has always been indispensable.


Put a step forward has she not ever without asking me,

Know I do that respect, caring thought, has she not more for anyone but me.

Sorrow, guilt and shame enshroud all my body parts,

For every time I have raised my hand or said something to have broken her heart.



Selfish I am for for all love, caring I've only been accepting and not reciprocating,

Sorry thus I feel for not to the extent she deserves I've been helping.

Promise I do now to endeavor to give whatever she might ask, however inaccessible, costly or sinister,

For she is my sweet, caring, loving sister.


Bear I will not to see anyone who makes her cry,

Dare anyone who even ventures to make a try.

Perhaps I do now know it's the brother in me that writes,

The courage in me I do not possess to resist nor fight.