Lovechild

Call me a mishap or a fatherless mongrel, we're all the same and equal sinners.

We've floated in our mother's womb alike and woken up to the same freaking world.

It is only a matter of perspective, not fate, I believe.

You and I are twins, on the other sides of the mirror.

Each of us remain, holding the same pinwheel in our hand. The one that's called life.

Then why do you believe you have the hues and me the monotones?

Notice when it circles with the wind, they are all white and all the same.

Take moment and think. While you maybe not, I am still a lovechild.

(Saved from another one of my blogs)