SISTERS (POETRY)

 I pray before I start

Because these words are coming from the deepest part of my heart

I prayed for her like she prayed for me

That the light one day she’d be willing to see

Over the years she told me some of her deepest fears

And I know it”s ok to cry because these are happy tears

I’ve been on the sidelines rooting for her every day

I knew somehow God would help her to find her way

I know she had to fight the whole way through

I know because I’ve been there

I had to fight too

I’ve been some of the same places she’s been

And it hurt at times that I was unable to be her friend

There was some hurt that I was still trying to mend

My love for my sister is deep and true

But I’m still hurt and I’m still healing too

It really hurt to see addiction drag my sister into that hole

It doesn’t discriminate it takes family friends and  Foes

We should have listened when mamma told us to just say no

But my response was always the same…

Mamma I know

Anyway the hurt is still the same

She must have thought I was joking when I told her this was no game

She saw me struggle

Drugs riddled me to the core

And I am so grateful that God has the power to restore

I remember when she cried

She told me she was tired

She could no longer fight

I looked her in the eyes and said

I need you

And I need you on this night

I pleaded for her to stay just a little while more

But just as fast as she came she was back out the door

She looked towards the ground

Looked at me and said

I will be back when I get

ONE MORE

Her eyes were filled with pain

She didn’t want to be loved

She only wanted more cocaine

I pleaded with her to let me help her

She was my baby sister

I pulled her close and hugged and kissed her

And even in my own addiction

I really, really missed her

What I know is she is walking that same dark path

The disease will get you

And it will get you fast

My baby sister is all alone out there on the streets

I want for her so badly to be free

She is my baby sister and that’s all I am able to see

I’m often reminded that the same God taking care of her

Is the same God that took such good care of me

My sister died of an overdose

God has set her free

And He’s still taking care of her

And watching over me

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7 comments

      1. Lots of sad stories in the world, that’s why poets are important, we document the heart of it, and the real people, whereas history only documents surface ‘fact’. Anyway, I’m glad you like Wall Grimm, and it’s awesome you think he’s weird! lol

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