I’m a lot like my father
Who lies quiet in the grave
I’m much like my mother
Yet not quite as brave
I’m a lot like the wind
Struggling with direction
I’m much like the water
Mirroring my introspection
I’m a lot like my sister
Struggling with myself
I’m much like my lover
When she takes me someplace else
I’m a lot like the rose
Beautiful and thorned
I’m much like a weed
When I feel lost and scorned
I’m a lot like nothing
When it all feels disconnected
I’m much like everything
When each morning I’m resurrected
Gene G. McLaughlin 2013
really loved this.
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