September 11, 2011
When you live in other peoples shadows,
How can you know what you really look like?
In their eyes, at least.
All they see is your faint shape,
Drowned out by their luminance.
You can’t stand the light,
Because you’ve never had your own.
Someone pities you, offers you a chance
To walk in the light, like them.
You reach out, try to touch it.
See your hand, misshapen and deformed,
And retreat back into your safe darkness,
Never again seeking the perfected light.

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