A dozen brothers and sisters are we.
My closest brother is the beginning.
My furthest sister is the middle.
We age and end like everyone else,
but just you wait, we will come again.
Our dear mother, holds us all.
Ages when I pass on.
So come and meet my strange family
who always move eternally,
but never seem to leave for good.
Who am I? Who is my mother? Who is my sister?
Submitted by Wendy
July 9th, 2011 | Category: 
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You are you your mom is your mom and your sister is you sister
Ahhh, no!
Keep trying.
Ummmm…are they the months? If so, then I assume that “he” would be January, the sister would be July, and the mother would be the sun…?
Well, it’s either that, or maybe they’re the numbers on a clock. In which case I would assume that he’s the one, the sister is the seven , and the mother…would perhaps be twelve or the clock frame-thingy.