When we were young, she asked me to write a poem for her. I was some years older than her, but we were both still kids. She wanted me to write a poem for her after I wrote a poem about my grandmother on my mom’s side (The Southern Belle I named it). We’re still in touch. It’s been 30 years since I first met her, and she is still the same little sister she was to me since that first day that I met her when she was 4. Sweet, adorable, smart, loving. I wrote a poem then as a child, but this is for her now, and maybe for many of the other sisters out there, someone you know, someone you love.

I wish she could see the beautiful woman that she is

I wish she could see the intelligent individual I know

I wish that I possessed the magic words

to reveal in the mirror what I see

to allow her to see the truth

Not lies, not the horrors that her mind tells her

But the truth

The truth of her beauty

The truth of her intelligence.

The truth of her mind

The truth of her personal power

That she is so much stronger than she thinks

So much stronger than she believes

That she possesses the power to make men bend to her will

The power to make everyone love her with little work

She possesses a giant heart that she hides behind the brick wall

She possesses a gentle spirit that animals cling to

I wish I held in my hand a star that when she held it in her hand

Would light up her life

That would release all her pain

That would show her she is perfect as imperfect as she is

That would protect her from the pain of this cold heartless world

A star that could shine bright when her days are dark

Magic fairy dust to brighten her up and help her laugh

If only she could hold a knight’s shield in her hands

That would keep the bad days away and vanquish the evil

As any woman does, she deserves beauty and laughter

Love and warmth.

She deserves to know what I’ve known since I met her

That she would grow into the beautiful woman she’s always wanted to be

That she already is that vision she has in her head

Not the vision of lies, but the vision of hope

If only I possessed a looking glass to show her just how special she is

How loved she is, but that she may not see.

A grown woman of beauty, strength, and intelligence.

It’s funny to me that when I read this back, I think to myself, you should heed your own words. I’m getting there, I’m getting there.