My mirror

You  are  everything  I am,  but  not.

I  write  the  story,

you are  the  plot.

A  reflection  of  my  DNA

some  ways  alike,

others  foreign…far  away.

I  pull  up  my  chair  to  take  a  closer  look,

I  can  read  you  like  a  well  known  book,

many  segments  and  chapters  have  created  thee….

many  pages  ripped  out,  so  you’re  not  JUST  like  me.

No,  not  speaking  ill,

neither  being  modest,

But  we  thrive  in  life,  when  we  are most  honest.

I  kissed  your  forehead  and  caressed  your  hair,

and  thought;  “How  life  can  be  unfair.”

I  finally  have  you,  like  I  prayed  for…..

but  we  share  a  struggle  that  I  can’t  ignore.

When  I  am  weary,

for  you  it’s  scary.

When  I  am  mad,

I  take  away  the  joy  you  had.

When  I  am weak,

you  are  confused..

I  am  supposed  to  be  your  muse…..

to  live  the  dreams  that  you  artistically  create,

my  pain,  my son,  will  not  be  your  fate.

Statistic  is  just  another  word,  to  unethically  place,

no  matter  what  you’ve heard.

you  are  everything  that  I  aspire  to  be,

an  unsmudged  living  proof,

that  clarity  in  life  is  free.

Raven Nicole`

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