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