'So are you going? '
That was Ashley,
Standing in the kitchen doorway in a T-shirt and socks.
At twenty-one my sister was a petite five-four,
With the kind of curly, round body I'd wish I'd been born with;
Tiny feet,
Perfect hair, small enough to be cute,
But a force to be reckoned with.
At my age she had already:
Been voted Most Popular,
Dated(and dumped) the captain of the football team, and
been a varsity cheerleader.
Just like Barbie,
My sister had everything.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem