Brothers

“I look at you, my brother and twin
Just like me, brown haired and thin
But you’re a sports star who always wins
I’m a bookworm, the shorter end of twins

Everyone thinks that we’re the same
I guess our appearances are to blame
But we’re not so similar, not at all
I get the dial tone, you get the call

All of the girls, all of the garish
Everything they all seem to cherish
Everyone loves you; I’m just the wind
Your ego thickened; mine thus thinned

I can stand it no longer
This is the way that it must be”
And I punched through the mirror
So I wouldn’t see me