That black wooden bookshelf I admire its structure
For it is eviden that it is black
Yet the wood must fight for its dominance
You would usually look past the fact the woodshelf is wooden
Or even mistake it for a scrath in the black bookshelf
though there is not one without the other
I am that wooden part of the bookshelf
Fighting for what is right
I am the one who is mistaken for a scratch in the table
I have a sister
Who belives she is better than I
She is the black part of the wooden table
I am left unheard, as she flies to the top of the tree as if a bird
But I am something she is not
A chalkboard without an eraser
An army without soldiers
I am not, thyself in its own absense as is she
I am not lost, therfore no need to be found
Altough she is here she is still missing
if only i could find her to rail her back in

Brittney Phillips

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/black-wooden-bookshelf/