This poem is titled Sister and was written during my college years about my sister. All of my siblings are adopted so this poem is rather special to me. I have two sisters, and two best friends who might as well be my sisters, and like all sisters we haven’t always gotten along at times, but this poem could easily be about either of my sisters. In case either of them actually read my blog I’ll refrain from commenting on whether the poem references one over the other.
Side note: I’ll never forget an argument I had about this poem. The lecturer teaching the class I wrote this for was perturbed by the line “This woman that life gave to me”. The lecturer insisted that the line should be “This woman that gave life to me” and insisted that the poem was about my mother.
For some reason she really wouldn’t believe me that it was about my sister. Even the title Sister did nothing to detract from her vehement assertions that this poem was about my mother. At least the whole exchange has given me something to laugh about and a good story to tell for years.
So, here’s the poem. Family to me is one of the most important things in life, and family doesn’t necessarily mean blood. Family are the people who love you unconditionally through the good times and the bad times, and who are always there for you in the end. Even when they don’t have to be.
Side note: if my nieces ever read this know that sometimes blood relations will let you down but family will always be there for you, no matter whether you’re “related” or not.
By B. Forrester
This woman that life gave to me,
to travel along on my journey.
An angel’s hand to guide me,
from being ecliptically lonely.
Life presented her as my friend;
she acts the warrior – defends.
Together, us, until the end.
On her I can always depend.
She’s my sister in all but blood,
she pulls me up out of the mud,
killing my self-loathing bug.
Together we weather the flood.