I watch them walk by, day by day. They walk past each other, noses held high in the air, mouths and minds ready with insults. So naïve. I see the looks behind their faces; the looks of pure hatred, and the looks that say, "I'm glad I'm nothing like him, the scum." If only they could really see. Both so brave, both so stubborn, both so passionate about who they are - both have these qualities, and in both, the qualities shine out like bright stars, yet no one has noticed yet that their stars match. One day maybe they will realise their likeness. Maybe it doesn't matter whether they do or not. They would never admit to it, never admit to themselves. But maybe one day they will see through that which holds them together so strongly to see a true reflection of their selves in the other. One black, one white; one handsome, one beautiful; one never-vanishing scar, one never-healing wound, both of which came as a result of the evil in the world. Through these minor differences, maybe one day they will see through to themselves in their enemy; maybe one day they will see it enough to be able to admit it and help each other. God knows they need it. I see them walk their lives; one up close, one at a distance - and I can tell they are both at a loss; both confused and alone and deeply wounded by the lives that they are forced to lead. They need someone who understands. I thought I understood, but you can never understand that which you've never experienced. They need each other. Maybe one day they will realise this; maybe they never will.