The Black Sheep

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I am never enough.
a constant reminder of imperfections,
And a time of regret.
a mirror of her youth-hood.

I am everything she could never be.
the walking embodiment of her dead dreams,
My character above that of her own.
a vessel for her for her resentment.

I am the Black Sheep,
the least loved amongst her cherubs,
The stain on her bloodline.
a nothing made in a heated moment.

-H

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