Ophelia

             Ophelia

My sister went to the Angels,
Years before I was born,
Her photo, always displayed,
Was a normal part of our home.

The pain from her early death,
Came out slowly, a bit at a time,
But not fully understood,
By the mind of a child like me.

Her photo, now in my home,
Is displayed just as before,
And I still wonder why and why not,
Not understanding, unable to ignore.

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