you wrote your story to spite me
the words i could never write
the scratchings i could never make
you scribed those words of mine
you wrote your story to spite me
the words i could never write
the scratchings i could never make
you scribed those words of mine
as if you had taken them for your own
but the words where never mine to have
and the story never unique and so was
present in yourself
teller join me
brother the same you and i
twin sons of the world
a similar story we share
yet how those words break
and how softly spoken
our two voices so
against the world