Pale pastelle and gold will ever remind me of the quiet sister of mine,
Believing in hope and writing poems among the records of her woe,
Holding faith while engulfed in fear,
In the room behind the stain glass window.

An older sister and a pseudo-guardian,
A girl that's loved me further then my memory,
Full of smiles and good intentions, but with frustration boiling behind the brink -
Yet bursting with kindness towards everyone she meets.

Sally Ann liked dolphins and bananas
And alternative rock and excersize;
She had freckles and friends, whose laughs I've heard in sessions,
Longer then I've encountered since by any other human beings.

She radiated god and little girls golden curls,
Crafting crosses with pale palm leaves,
Betting on fortune and gritting her teeth,
Alone, behind her door, when we weren't allowed to see.

Her bedsheets were turquise with yellow suns,
And she listened to Dave Matthews Band,
She loved using cameras and drinking her tea,
And every individual in our big family.

I can't recall what she didn't love for lack of complaints to call upon in memories,
Of my big sisters protection and loyalty,
To keep me safe and teach me fate and creed,
And for that I will always love her, my sister, Sally.