Once upon a time,
not so very long ago,
When cavemen roamed the earth,
and earth was caked in snow,
Upon a certain day,
a little girl was born,
In the bleaker month of May,
she was sad and forlorn.
She spent most her years,
of childhood and youth,
In lonely, bitter tears,
a victim of this truth;
Oh, sure, she had a sister,
a fun and fuzzy friend,
But she had not a brother,
companionship to lend,
So she cried, and cried, and cried
forsooth, she almost died.
Until a dark October,
when ghosts no longer hide.
Upon that Hallow’s Eve,
a little babe was born,
Orange Popsicle in fist,
eating some candy corn,
The little girl now thought,
that this may be the one,
The brother whom she’d love,
E’n as he sucked that thumb.
She picked him up and and held him close,
but he began to cry,
She scolded him, and sang a hymn,
his cries just would not die.
“Dear little bro'” -she pinched his toe,
“please stop, we can be friends!
But if you don’t, love you I won’t,
and you will serve me till the end!”
The child paused, relaxed his claws,
to give her candy corn.
She smiled at him, and sang again,
but her song hurt him to scorn.
You see, her voice was far from choice,
for she was merely five,
Each off-key note crooned from that throat,
to him was homicide.
He wailed and wailed, till he prevailed,
her song had been suppressed,
She set him down and kicked his crown,
and hence they both became depressed.
As the years passed, their hate amassed,
each one’s for the other,
She, like a lord, with regal sword,
reigned o’r that poor brother,
But as he grew, the brother knew,
he would be big and strong,
He’d win a fight, just one – he might,
he’d make her see her wrong.
So one fine day, he ran away.
the sister had said “No!”
He didn’t care, he was prepared,
his colors now to show.
When he returned, the sister spurned,
said, “You must do just what I say!”
He said to chide, with growing pride,
“I now am free of you this day!”
She screamed and shrieked as she attacked,
The brother took the blow.
She slapped and smacked, and kicked his back,
but never fear did brother show.
He now returned assault with fight,
and the battle had begun,
First the table, then that chair,
She scratched his face, he pulled her hair,
He spat at her, she slapped him hard,
She called him ‘dumb’, he called her ‘lard’,
He bit her hand, she bit his nose,
She hit his head, he tore her clothes,
As the smoke cleared – and yes there was smoke,
The room was strewn a-mess, but no words were spoke.
I don’t know how, and I don’t no why,
But after that – hate began to die,
And as it died, so did the pride,
That had made us bitter foes,
Now dear friends until the end!
How could this be, do you suppose?
I think that God, in His loving love,
Knew that we should be good friends.