'That Was Not My Sister'
- Admin Team
- Jun 29
- 1 min read
Updated: Jul 10
Guest Blog By May Mcleod
No, that was not my sister
crying herself hoarse
in the hospital
No, that was not my sister
rescuing me from the bully
in the playground
No, that was not my sister
ironing my school uniform
Sunday evenings
No, that was not my sister
filling up the fat and lumpy
socks for us on Christmas Eve
No, that was not my sister
trying to shield us from
the war between our parents
No, that was not my sister
musician, poet, artist, dancer,
sensitive, lovely, loving girl
No, that was not my sister
in the dark with a married mouth
upon her adolescent breast
No, that was not my sister
squirming on the gravel
being kicked in the ribs
No, that was not my sister
being whacked in the face
by another man who said he loved her
No, that was not my sister
retching and writhing on the concrete
from her brother’s hands around her throat
No, that was not my sister
leaving a trolley full of groceries
at the checkout - unpaid
No, that was not my sister
knocking at another door asking
‘Can I stay...’
No, that was not my sister
on the roadside
shivering
No, that was not my sister
in the garden
late at night
That was not my sister
walking naked and bloody
through the streets
with the crowd jeering...
I don’t have a sister
-Poem for my brothers
27 January, 2002
may mcleod
(c) may mcleod 2024 (All rights reserved)
Oh my gosh, one of the most powerful poems I've ever read and saddest and most articulate in the bluntness of and sharpness and horror of such a lovely lovely life lost. I'm so sorry for her story and your story that's forever affected by the cruelty.