Sister Poem by Yasmin Bee
Sister
Darling girl
Let's let the dead be dead
I'll hold your hand
We can mother each other if you like
I'll cook your lunch
You stroke my hair
I won't even mind
That you almost smell like her
I am thirty four
No more than a child
I may as well be sixty three
And I will want my mother still
I refuse to give birth myself
How then could i know
What kind of pain it is
To leave your child behind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 11:24:50 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
