“I want to go to New York”

She says.

I look back at her.

My little sister

With excitement in her eyes.

Now she stands

on the rooftop ledge

On the top of the tallest building in New York.

“I’m finally here,” she says

as tears run down her face.

As she lets herself go

and death consumes her without hesitation.


“She is at peace,


With herself and the world.

Nothing with ever harm her,

or get in her way.

at least not in this universe,”

I tell myself everyday.


I listen for her cries 

in the wind

I listen for her sorrow

In the rain

Finally, the sun comes up

As if waiting for me.

Suddenly, her cries

No longer cries

Her sorrow

No longer in existence

Her smile shines

Her laugh

Her carefree and happy self

My sister’s hand reaching out to me

“I missed you,” she says,

As I take her hand

As I am consumed by happiness.

Laughter and content

As my hand slips from the ledge.

People yell,

But it’s too late.

“Like brother like sister,”

I say.

As I head toward my destiny,

As death reaches for me longingly

Grasping my hand and pulling me closer

And as death consumes another life in his very own hands.

I am happy to see my sister at last.


This poem is about: 
Our world


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