I know a girl with golden locks,
She never knew they shined.
Often, I smile and often, I talk,
I let her feel laughs, never pain.

She doesn’t hear of me- caring words.
I never knew her- wet eyes,
Her lips… a thin, thin line.

She is unknowing of my knowing,
Her sorrowful face still bright,
Her eyes… well-drawn masks.

Gloom is passed from room to room,
Like a disease, it affects all.
Simply for reasons of deafly told stories…
Unneeded- for I care, I do.

She strikes me as a certain type,
One for which I might have been blind.
To find her weeping- bundles of dying buds,
Would not be a sight unheard of.

In the hours we’d share,
Bliss was felt in one’s company.
I fear- to assume- might have been too brisk,
A mistake made one-sidedly.

Sinking in dread, remorse unwelcome,
Love unsaid, feeling mournful,
For questioning- she’ll never oblige.

Friends lost- broken knees,
Family lost- broken hearts,
Hearts lost and no one left for sympathy…
My sister- and I only had to listen.

Dominique Lorraine

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-of-a-sister/