Old Gemini

Evening in the garden, surrounded by fireflies
We'd only just moved in
I spent my time alone there reading, and planted one thing a day
While shoveling the yard, my spade hit a metal box
And in it was a diary, the cover old and frayed

It said, "I don't know how much time I have, but I guess we never really do
I thought that I would be terrified
But it's worse to watch them watching
Sometimes, I wish our lives were simpler, that we never had to stretch the food
That people here would treat my brother well, and that he would know he's good"

I laid out all those page, and in my study, typed them up
It was tough to say how old they were, I guess — years, at least
The boy who wrote these words was an odd and complicated mind
But wisdom's often heavier when found before its time

He said, "We all get stuck in circles, but nothing moves in perfect lines
Connections underlie the things we see, but to nuances, we're blind
And I am never singular, I was born a pair but walk alone
My mirror shows the things I'm not, but he helps me feel at home"