Brothers are a different breed
Than are sisters, as a rule,
When young, their purpose is to tease,
To annoy and to fool.
Many tears of grief are shed,
By little girls with brothers,
And tales of torture have been heard,
By sympathetic mothers.
Most little girls see little boys,
As if from outer space,
And sisters often doubt their brothers
Are of the human race.
Boys don't treat their sisters right,
They do not like their hugs,
The only things that boys like
Are dogs and frogs and bugs.
But a sister and a brother
Somehow manage to survive,
And in spite of one another,
They both grow up alive.
Then when they are old enough,
To select mature
Their childish jeers and
Turn into grown-up laughs,
"Do you remember when," they ask,
"We played our silly games?"
"Of course," each sibling answers,
Though their mem'ries aren't the same.
One sister wags her finger,
As she says, "You teased a lot."
"No! Not me!" her brother grins,
"I MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT!"
"Remember when you pushed me
Down the old fruit cellar stairs?
I still have the scars to prove
Upon my derriere!"
"Show him, sis!" another brother
Speaks up in her defense,
"Ha ... are you depraved or crazy?"
She shoots back at his offense.
Then they all collapse in laughter,
Which, as kids, they would not do
But now they even smile and hug,
And warmly say, "I love
Well, brothers can become good
Though they may not begin that
That's why God created sisters,
To show them ways they should behave.
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