Sisters

You came from Chopin: I, from Robert Frost.

Somewhere the real bond seems to be lost.

The separation was always too great,

Even when you were six and I was eight.

We never did see eye to eye

From politics and sports to baking apple pie.

You, you're outspoken and eager and bold.

Because of my shyness, people think I'm cold.

But we are the same; they tell us it's there,

Though it's not in the eyes, the lips or the hair.

Perhaps someday we'll see it too

And one, or both, will say

I love you.

(By the way, I still have the same reaction when someone steals my lollipop)