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My Imitator

There I stand,
Just staring back at me,
In complete silence,
Neither of us willing to talk,
My every move perfectly imitated,
I raise my left hand,
so does he,
“Why MUST you imitate me?”
His response is simply my mirror,
“Leave me alone!”
“Don’t you have your own life to live?”
He stands there simply,
“Go torture some-one else!”
SHATTER
I look down,
A large piece of glass is embedded in my hand,
It bleeds torrents of blood,
I look back up,
My imitator stands no more.





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