A misanthrope in distress,
But I couldn't quite guess,
How long he's oppressed,
I care for him, nevertheless.Together, we're bound,
By blood and heart, so profound,
But I know he wears that frown,
Especially when I'm not around.My long jet black hair,
Valued as much as his welfare,
Hurt him, don't you dare,
These strands, used as arrows, can impair.I was his saviour, his hope, as he is mine,
Without him, life—I never mind,
In a broken world we're confined,
As a shining light, I will be his guide.Last night, I helped him sleep,
Told me to stay with his tight grip,
No lies and doubts I stayed, indeed,
I never ever wanted to make his soul bleed.Then he whispered to my ear,
"Oblivion is my fear,
But in my mind, you'll appear,
Always, sister, my dear."©PeculiarPat34
A poem that signifies a love of a sister to a brother and vice versa. Happy born day to one of my (not blood related😔) sisters, blUemoon09rC ! Always be strong and satisfied with the wonderful life you have. 😊🎉🎁

YOU ARE READING
Peculiar Stories Untold
PoesíaGood day, peculiar! PeculiarPat34, delighted to meet you! In this book of poems, I had recorded some-both the living and the dead-peculiars all over the world. Seek and gain the knowledge of certain peculiars and their history through this material...