Two Dresses (a poem)

Two dresses
Two marvelous dresses
Cut from the same fabric
Stitched together with the same blood

This dress beautiful
It is mature and lovely
It is elegant and dignified
Not a thread is out of place
It is slightly older
A cream with a golden hue
Glimmering stones cast a shining halo
It drapes to the floor
Delicately hugging curves in all the right places
And just barely off the shoulder
She, is beautiful

This dress is damaged
It is newer but styled after old
It is fragile
The fabric is torn and the buttons ripped
The dress was pretty
The dress was unique
The dress was flattering
Now it is ragged and dingy
The soft white is now grey
And smudged
with grubby brown fingerprints
It has been trampled on
by heavy, careless feet
Skin peeks through the gaping holes
She, is damaged

Two dresses
Two original dresses
Cut from the same fabric
Stitched together with the same blood

*So, this poem was inspired by my sister's recent engagement and wedding dress shopping. It compares me to her. I am not trying to put myself in a dark mood, but this is how our separate lives have been for as long as I can remember. I think the poem is wonderful, and I mean that.