Poets went from wrting poems to dirges.
Bombs too loud to be seen but refusing to be unheard.
A solemn thought of peace is too absurd.
A gift, not only the past but the future and the present.
Three in one, a life they say.
Call my stardust back into the clouds.
Push me back down my mother's tunnel.
Give that other sperm cell a chance.
Just make sure she's born in August.
So she can edure double the pain, double the strive, double the horrid chance of life.
That is the curse of the twin that lives.
I have gained the strength of my fallen sister, Grace.
I willingly take twice the pain, twice the strive, never the blade but always the knife.
A double edged sword if you will.
With twins, you always wonder, will they turn out the same?
Ying or Yang, I begin to ask.
Or am I mixed cup from God at the soda fountain, combining coke and sprite?
But still, I'm only a glass half full..
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