My Sister

A scowl perhaps when the sun first peers into her window…but like the sun she gleams midday, and brightens up the sky, bringing warmth to everything that she passes over. Although my sister does not possess a delicate air, that of which you’d see on a flower, her strength is never-fading, as the wilting petals of a frail daisy. She embodies a strength in which I wish I too could possess, and her strength is her beauty. Why be a delicate daisy, when her beauty is the strength of a roaring sea?

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