I see you;
In the horses slowly trotting, riding along at the commands of their masters;
In the leaves clinging desperately to the vulnerable trees, left to the fate of the unrelenting breeze;
In the clouds drifting by, their shapes reforming at the will of the wind;
In the flowers wilting in the sun, screaming at their roots to find some source of water in this drought.

You go at the leisure of the ones who saddle your back,
and hold onto those hurt people, who angrily batter at your cowering form.
You mold yourself to others' preferences,
and are crushed by your god, looking for some hope he may have left you in this seemingly eternal despair.

I see you in my reflection, seeking some sort of break from an already fractured world.
You are broken and the world around you bent,
but there are ways to fix everything,
and I am studying to be a Mender.