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Desi Mosier Desi Mosier
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soul mates

I've been given a gift,
a curse that I claim.
When I look at people,
all I see is their pain.

No face with features,
or look to maintain.
Nobody different,
everyone is the same.

The boy sitting beside me,
need not explain.
I see the emotions,
he tries to restrain.

The girl down the street,
who loves to walk in the rain.
No one knows how many tears,
the drops on her face may contain.

A single parent downstairs,
a smile they insist to retain.
Refusing to tell the children,
how many bill collectors have came.

A boy in his room,
just beyond my door frame.
Questions the feelings inside,
questions if he's even sane.

The little girl asleep beside me,
with the purest of heart and the purest of brain,
has some fears,
but they're still so tame.

A shell of a girl,
fighting a battle where she's already slain.
Seeking the happiness,
she cannot attain.

She looks around,
with a thought so profane,
maybe the scars on her body,
are more mundane.

She does not see people,
she sees the emotions they choose to constrain.
Alone looking in a mirror,
I see my disdain.

With a corrupt thought,
I open a vein.
"It's okay," I whisper.
"everyone has their chains."

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