I see my reflection

In a form of a person.

this cant be Me. Just cant.

I MUST be unique

But its the same her infront of me.

Her look, her color.

Her being, her walk;

Har paleness, har talk; 

Her silenece, her shock;

 Her clothes- the same baggy clothes of shame

Her face is full of effort to hide the pain.

.Shes transparent. So am I.

She notices me in a glimpse of an eye.

Shes scared to her CORE to be multiplied

But she knowes, like I do, the statistic will testify

"we are all at the same pit" to myself I replite,

and this disorder's what makes us so desparate and spite

.