There is something so sinister about comparison
Comparing your accomplishments with that of another
You feel worthless and empty
You feel as if you're not good enough
Or how a woman compares her beauty to another
The love of her life could say she's beautiful for ages and ages
He could write poems and songs
Roses and fine wine on a quiet night
And she still feels too ugly for her hand in marriage
When a man takes a look at his life or a woman in the mirror
They steal their own love from themselves
Comparison is a thief of joy, and my mind is the thief of my own life

© Aries Andino