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I worry for the child every night, And every night brings forth another fright. I worry for the child in every way everyday, “Do not stumble, don't get hurt”, always I would pray. It's harsh, the way I existed, that is, In a blink of an eye, I was just there. Staring at myself, yet I know I'm someone else, Watching my life unfold, all pain, all sorrow, all unfair. I know in myself, that I am part of what's whole, That in this life, a harsh part is my role. I must step in before I cry, hide the tears, mask my face, All alone, while I am weeping inside, all alone with no embrace. I look with no remorse, I stare with cold eyes. I look like death, walk like death, that nothing can revitalize. All I want is his smile, Or should I say, “my” smile. I speak like two, it's always been us two. One is true, and one is made to hide what's true. One is strong, bold, emotionless, and woke, While the other, a pleasant one, filled with hope. I write, on behalf of him who protects me, Black. For he doesn't know how to shed a tear. He bore my pain all throughout those years, He took my sorrow, took my grief, he shouldered my fears. I pity him, who is myself, and cherish him be. I try to be strong on my own, And flourish in ways I've known, But the path, I just cannot see. We call upon each other, embrace our own warmth. I cry on my own shoulder, while he stays inside. There are times I won't let him out, for I fear I would change. But at times he won't let me out, for he fears I would fade. I see and I hear everything from deep within. Although I cannot relate, I know that he feels. His unending pain, ocean of tears, his long suffering, He hides them all, and it's my job to keep it sealed. But please! Not anymore! I cannot bear to see you hide it anymore! Open that jar and release the dust you collect! Although I'm different I am still you and it pains me so, To see myself limping and dragging whatever that is left. This is for you, White, who is also me, Black. I care for you more than you could imagine. And without tears I cry for your sake. Stop your suffering now, stop before it's too late. Left by time. Severed by the flow. Still it clings and holds onto hope. No. It strips my hope. I must go back to before. Cover my past with fantasies I yearned for. Overwriting everything I've endured, all I've felt... everything. However, must I? Will I be alright? Will the moon still shine its true beauty at night? Tell me, should I kill the child inside?
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