My Scattered Poems

Echo

We are nothing but an empty shell

Ready to be filled

With another's influence and being

We become another

There is no such thing as an original

There is no "one and only"

We are but an echo in this world

Reflecting upon someone else

Mirroring another's life

The pure nature becomes tainted

Twisted with the influence

Innocence becomes stolen

As we first idolize

Then mimic

And end with an echo