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Janice at 60 , originally from London , i was the best big brother ever , she used to do ballet and was a nurse for many years , i accidently hit her in the eye with a conker , we are now orphans,but when our parents were alive and we were young when they went shopping they'd say as they left us in the car , no fighting , our other favourite passtime was to wreck each others bedrooms , but apart from anything else i love my little orphan sister

In London's mist, a tale unfolds, Of Janice at sixty, her spirit bold. Once a dancer with graceful glide, A nurse whose kindness never died. In youthful days, a brother's pride, I was the best big brother, tried. Though once a conker left its mark, A jesting wound, a childhood spark. Our parents, hearts both warm and bright, Would leave us in the car, "No fight." Yet through the years, a playful spree, We'd wreck our rooms, wild and free. Now orphaned, life's quiet stage, Our stories penned on memory's page. But through the laughter, tears, and strife, Dear sister Janice, you are my life.

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In London's mist, a tale unfolds, Of Janice at sixty, her spirit bold. Once a dancer with graceful glide, A nurse whose kindness never died. In youthful days, a brother's pride, I was the best big brother, tried. Though once a conker left its mark, A jesting wound, a childhood spark. Our parents, hearts both warm and bright, Would leave us in the car, "No fight." Yet through the years, a playful spree, We'd wreck our rooms, wild and free. Now orphaned, life's quiet stage, Our stories penned on memory's page. But through the laughter, tears, and strife, Dear sister Janice, you are my life.
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