O Sis, could I love thee like no other.
For before my young eyes only squinted,
A face inoffensive to our mother.
I was, but a statue: black and minted.
Did not my ears think or care to listen
Till you, O Sis, gave no care, but to ask.
What made a man blush red made you glisten
Just like your art and music that I bask.
And though your impatience rolled many eyes
And your massage of rage a parents' brow
My trust in you was as big as your lies
A heart open to you or nearly now
But then you left with that useless boy grown.
O Sister, why did you leave me alone