I am the thorn bush,
Whose prickly briars hide a rose or two.
She is the cat,
Whose playful paws hide wickedly sharp claws.
We are siblings, as alike and similar as that entails,
Growing apart with an age difference like separate eras.
When strangers approach, we are both outgoing,
But in bearing we are strangers.
Where she lives for a crowd,
I need no one but myself (and a friend or two).
In vengeance we differ,
Where I lack, she flourishes.
We are both quick to anger,
But fickle in emotion.
We both enjoy a crowd,
But as mine encroaches, hers is limelight.
Our values are on the opposite ends of a spectrum,
But we both enjoy simple pleasures.
At times, we are enemies,
But we are fond of each other
The biggest difference in us,
Is perhaps how we view each other.
Mornings we wake,
And I hope she’s in a good mood.
If not, she’s prepared to be foul,
Rebellion abound, claws out.
Other days, she is overly sweet,
While my own patience is thin.
I am short, quick to anger,
Pushing her away, harsh in manner.
Though sisters we are,
I see no middle point.
She is too young to negotiate
And I am too ornery to treat her as a child.
