sisters kids

One, two, three to the eighth I love them all, blessed was my sister who gave birth,
dammed were the kids who were born to a selfish girl who never heard the call.
abused, punished, and forced to live in filth as if born with a curce.
she is my sister yet what she dose to her kids on her I wish the worst,
no child should have to go threw what they go threw,
with her it was always "me first".
it`s so hard to swollow or even chew.
this isn`t what mom would have wanted or seen,
I see her in their eyes lost, lonly,and blue,
I never thought a mother could be so mean.
but what do I or can I do,
to help them will hurt them, to lose them would be to love them,
I can`t let it go by any longer what she dose is wrong, as is not acting on it,
I pray that they will find happiness at lifes end.
to grow live,love,and not look back with regret.
A mother that sould have never been,
kids missing love, afection, and a chance to be,
thats my sisters sin.
and to let it be would be the same for me,
when is it wrong to do the right thing,
when is it wrong to step in and forbid,
they need love, to fill love, to be loved and let their heart sing.
they are not a hard luck story, a head line that will lose stem, a book or movie they are real, living, breathing, they are my sisters kids.

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