Can you see us
we are the same.
She walks the same road
and has the same soul
and carries same image.
But I hate her,
because she is the same as me.
As we turn and stare,
we see the same face.
One the broken reflection of the other,
so why am I the one to suffer.
Why walk these paths,
we are the same.
Tormented and shattered,
broken reflections.
One loves,
free in life.
One hates,
tricked in death.
Both of the same,
broken reflections of the other.
So why am the one chosen to suffer,
while she finds happieness.