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Poetry

My twin, my angel

 

 

 

Deep down inside I feel something missing

 

Against the festive Yuletide and mistletoe kissing.

 

A feeling that I should have someone close and dear,

 

To wish me some warm Christmas cheer.

 

But I feel the faint warm love of a special sister,

 

I now know it is my twin, oh how I’ve missed her.

 

It should be a special time for a twin sister and brother,

 

Opening presents in front of father and mother.

 

But sadly that is just in my mind’s eye,

 

A pain so bad I just want to cry.

 

 

Sadly an only child am I,

 

Perhaps to remain till I die.

 

But at Christmas I see an Angel smiling down on me,

 

From on top of the lofty Christmas tree.

 

With a long white dress and thick brown hair,

 

And a radiant smile on her face so fair.

 

Her wings outstretched all neat,

 

The world at her bare feet.

 

I feel the warmth of a twin sister’s love,

 

Pouring down on me from above.

 

 

A twin sister is the only Christmas present I need,

 

To help me through life, to be finally freed.

 

Though I’m an only child with no proof of my sis,

 

I vaguely remember a time of soulful bliss.

 

It was before this world I came into,

 

My mind now has only a dim view.

 

A world where I was with this special soul,

 

And our love would fill each other like water in a bowl.

 

But sadly this was soon to change forever,

 

And Death took her seeding my sad endeavor.

 

 

My subliminal endeavor to find my sister was long,

 

And especially at Christmas the pain was strong.

 

The Angel that sits top of the tree was bought on my first Christmas,

 

And how every year I would look at her and hear her whispers.

 

I would feel the coolness of her angel wings beating,

 

Fanning my soul, it feels like a sisterly greeting.

 

I hear her sweet angelic voice in my mind,

 

Glimpse her smile from a face so kind.

 

A special love this cold, cold winter’s night,

 

A special love betwixt two twins, so bright.

 

Though I have no proof I had a twin sister dear,

 

 

I know that I have to fight away a tear.

 

But I look at the special Angel on top of the tree,

 

And I know she is smiling at me.

 

I must not waste my life but live it to the full,

 

My sister would want me to stand proud and tall.

 

And one day when I am very old,

 

I will go into the afterlife so bold.

 

My twin sister, the Angel and also me,

 

Will be looking down from every Christmas Tree.

 

Alan

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