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An Inferior Sock
I always hated contrasting,
Because it was far more viral,
Controversially engaging and rivalrous,
Than comparing.
Simply, we love to contrast.
Pointing out the unmatched, unrivaled and unparalleled
Cutting divisions.
Causing scars.
Endlessly, can you imagine being contrasted for your entire life?
Genetically compared as fraternal.
Socially, contrasts, seemingly eternal.
Inversely, can you imagine desiring to be compared for your entire life?
As if, rationally, all the comparisons became meaningless,
Fading into genetics, and supporting Nature’s true balance.
The contrasts inflamed, then roared, then engulfed.
As if every aspect of my person, was merely where we diverged,
a “better than” trait or a “worse than” trait,
A forgotten ability to equate.
The worst part is the shamelessness.
Which one of you is better at…?
Who is the …er twin?
Who is the more … one of you two?
Shamelessly, embracing the controversy.
Causing an awkwardness to settle in our stomachs,
As uncomfortable, uneasy words propagate through the air.
With the pot stirred, emotions marinated, we resign.
Because it was never worth the argument.
There was no feat in being the best of two,
Yet, there was so much shame, inferiority, incompetence,
In being the worst, the weakest, the runt of just two.
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William Cahill spends his time writing, coding, and running. He is a Sophomore in High School just outside of Boston. Will has begun to write more poetry recently and hopes to continue doing so.