"Where is he?"
"How is he?"
"Is he feeling well?"
All these question. . .
Yet none of them are for me.
It's always him. . .
It's never me. . .
Not even a word of concern for me. . .
He always get everything. . .
Even though we have the same face.
Why does he get to be good in everything?
Why am I always accused of things I haven't done?
Why is he always the hero?
Why is it that when I do something good. . .
They tell me I did something bad to get it.
I'm always out in the dark. . .
Unable to say or do anything. . .
Their words are too much for me. . .
How I wish to be him. . .
If only I could be him.