Joyce Rugg (2/21/1996- / olean new york)
A Familiar Stranger
A face reflected in the glass,
but it can't belong to me.
A familiar stranger stares back
as we wait for this trick to end.
I cannot see myself in her;
The small suggestion of a smile
and the confidence are both hers,
So what of her belongs to me?
I've seen glimpses of her before,
but she still brings a chilling thrill.
Older, stronger, wiser than I,
the self I'm not sure I can be
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