Frank Lines Poem by Emma Adamyan

I`ve understood I`ll never be like others,
Does it mean I`m better? No, it doesn`t of course,
It means I can never be someone else,
As no one can...
So we hardly can be alike,
For everything is reflected so quite:
Face is a mirror of our destiny,
Eyes have lifelong memory,
Voice with an old sound of secret strings-
Sometimes they show forbidden things...
Aren`t they our enemies?
Aren`t they betrayers?
These are things we neither can change, nor hide
And if the past wasn`t something lucky,
It will be especially hard to keep your pride,
Because any place without a solid bed,
Falls apart like a rope of sand
And I guess the following question will remain eternal forever...
'What`s better- to live an invented life and become a dreamer
Or to live a real life, facing every trouble and fear? '-
...Perhaps one day to become a thorn,
You`re left alone to sort it out
And do not forget about
That carpenter of life`s throne,
Which is inside each person,
Making the road of everyone`s fate,
So don`t let good find you too late...