Sisters

Just a poem about a little bit of my life with my sisters

Sisters

When we were young,
my sisters and I make three;
close in age,
but not in personality.
We fought, we argued.
We made our parents life hell.
Our poor little brother,
tortured daily without fail.
Rivalry, jealousy,
mean spirited acts.
Punching, kicking,
no girlie scratching,
or pulling of hair.

But time has passed
and we are grown now.
With children of our own,
we've gotten closer some how.
The plots and schemes,
all the fighting we did when we were young;
are stories our children beg to hear
now that we are old.