It is growing in your head, sprouting like a flower

The thing that took our mother, that lush October hour

In your head or around your bone

The thing that left us all alone

You have always lead bravely

I have only to tread gravely

No leader am I

No warrior anymore

My eyes are too world-weary

My heart is too sore

And I won't make it if you go

But I must live on I know

you will need me to look over them

But Big Sister...

Who will look out for me?