the one you wish to speak

to 

is not the one you see

the child you hear crying

out

is not the one you comfort

the woman who you called

mother

is not the one who raised you

the man who named you

son

is not the one you look up to

the wrinkly old lady too frail to 

walk

is the last part of yourself you know

the rugged aged man without his

sight

is the one you search for

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