Stare in the mirror, and what looks back
Death
He is more than more than human
and he is less.
He will not be mocked
He will not be cheated
He will not be made inferior
because he cannot be made inferior.

Look out the window, and what goes by
Life
She is seemingly weightless
yet all too flooding.
She will not be understood
She will not be guessed
She will not be made a thing
because she cannot be made a thing.

Clouds swirl around in circles
Birds sing on half snapped branches
Bones lie within the dirt
Upon which white flowers will grow.