The Mystery of my Sister’s School Photo
By Lindsay Macrae
I moved my sister’s photo
From the top of the TV.
She’s been there for ages
And she’s uglier than me.
Her shirt and tie are twisted
And her hair is a big disgrace.
It puts you off your egg and chips
Just looking at her face.
I haven’t quite decided
Where I’m going to move her to.
Dad’s wardrobe is a possible
But so is the downstairs loo.
Or else beneath the sofa
Down among the crumbs and fluff.
That’ll teach her not to tease me
And borrow all my stuff.
That’ll teach her not to wind me up
And teach her not to boast.
That because she is the eldest
She’s the one Mum loves the most.