My Sister, My Friend

by Yolanda Shabazz

It started when we were, maybe four
You’d stand on my porch and yell thru the door
“Come over to my house
I’ll let you play with my game.”
During our growing up years
It’s one of a few things that stayed the same.

A friendship that has withstood many a test
Arguments and fights
“You don’t always know what’s best”
“Well, as for you, you don’t know so much.”
“You take care, too.  Try to keep in touch.”

We took turns building this friendship
Sometimes strong 
At times needing a guide
You kept me moving forward
Because of my tendency to backslide.

We pursued individual goals
You toiled in many un-exotic places
I became a citizen of the world
At home with people 
Of many different races.

Me, busy being me
I somehow fell out of touch
You, being you, chastised me 
For always needing too much
“Don’t blame busy when you don’t do what you say.”
My Sister, My Friend
Making me keep to a straight way.

My Sister, My Friend by Yolanda Shabazz

© Copyright 2000. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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