This is not a poem but a slogan I can’t seem to fix my lips to say, however I am missing her so much since that day.
The reason is unknown but the pain has a name, insane, insane is the way I’d like to go just because I think of all those dudes jaws we broke. Messing with my Big sister shit you must be a joke.
You were my cloak, my shelter from the life storms, always treated me as your first born and when you had her I was scorned. I would have bet we would grow old and be together but there are some plans that no matter or weather you prepare, its always a devastating affair.
All four of your off springs are bejeweled and rare, it is my hope to inspire them to dare, to dare and become that which we did not and I’ll die striving to see they don’t give up.
This pain in my gut appear to be chronic, My nerves are absurd and I can barely speak the words of saying you will always be missed but in the midst of all this shit know that you are always my Big Sis….
I love you Patrice Lorraine Hall Thomas……..11/5/1967-1/14/2015