As a Bystander

I watched as my sister almost faded away.

Those stupid magazines,

stupid tv shows,

and stupidly skinny models made her this way.

I was unaware for a long time

until I saw her crying one day.

She was telling my mom

how ugly she believed she was.

"I'm too fat!"


"I'm so ugly!"

was flying out of her mouth.

She had no idea that every tear,

every word,

felt like a stab wound to me.

Had it been my fault?

Was there something I could do?

They soon walked out the door and I knew what I had to do.

I rearrange her bookshelf and turn on my phone

to a certain song. 

I turn up the volume

And open up a book

to a certain page.

I wait for her

to come home

hoping this would work.

She soon walks 

into the room

and I play the song

"You are Beautiful" the phone sings

and I sing as well.

Tears well up in her eyes

and fall down her face. 

That is then when I knew

I didn't have to be

just a bystander.

This poem is about: 
My family


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