In a yellowing photograph
Smiling back at me
My doppelgänger from the past
Who supposedly is a part of me

But lately, I feel her slowly fading
A piece of her breaking away
And Im sat here desperately clinging
To the piece of her, willing it to stay

I put the yellowing photograph aside
And see my reflection in the mirror
A person I still recognise
Wondering when she will turn, into a distant figure

But these doppelgängers
How do I know when I’ve become better
That I have left the parts of me behind
That will push me towards some peace of mind

Or I have left the parts of me
That made me unique
Have they gone forever?
Because lately I feel incomplete

I was standing at the corner
Of Yonge and Bedlam Ave.,
When I spied a chap across the way,
The image of my Dad.

He had one thumb in his pocket,
The fingers hung outside.
His other arm craddled a book,
As often in his life.

His weight was shifted to the right,
With head cocked to the side;
He wore his cap over one eye,
Tweed jacket open wide.

He raised his head,
As I did mine,
Looked to me and nodded;
He smiled and touched
The edge of his brim,
I did the same as him.

We crossed with the light.
He passed
And went
Where he belongs;
Me, to the library,
My book was overdue.

Man I think I've seen enough of staring death in the eyes, cause couldn't disguise or even come to terms to emphasize  what was before my eyes, I've uncover the lies, made a paved pathway for the condemned to walk upon.
Depraved to stand aside, when we confide what left of us, words of this sort..to some wont comprehend.
unlisted.  Missed it.    Before your eyes.
          Harmonize the thought                           To later dismiss it.
     But we all know I'll reminisce it later.
To my twin, or wrath.
No difference of how thick the blood runs if my math is right I step foot right into your path.