by Esther C., 17
Copycat was her name
Her name was Elisha
It was an astonishing thing
How bold she was
Allowing the streams of belief to entwine around her soul
The proof of naught was almost enough
She backpedalled into her own trap
Her own dignity reversed
As she became more like each of her peers
She lost life
Floating, she who was foliated like most
Lost meaning to earth and beyond
Under herself was nothing
And through that
Nothing was her
Acton, Massachusetts
Bridge Ink 