You call yourself unique. Different.
A fingerprint on this world.
You aren’t; any other opinion is a lie.
A lie beautifully wrapped with a tied bow curled.
The eyes with which you spy
And see the world around you?
They’re your father’s eyes.
Not so special now, it’s true.
The bend and curve of your jaw
And the hair in straight blonde locks?
They were passed down to you from your mother’s mother.
And this isn’t the end of the coming shocks.
Your bubbly and rare personality
Of kindness and intelligence with a dash of artisticness?
It was all influenced by your down-to-earth sister and kind hearted teachers.
Are you crushed yet by my frankness?
You can thank your grandfather on your father’s side
For the stubborn streak you foster.
Even your love for romance isn’t yours:
It’s sparked by Hollywood’s latest blockbuster.
Math competence and reading expertise
Writing fluency and musical talents –
They all come from your ancestors and mentors,
Nothing but parental, social, and media-driven fragments.
All you are or hope to be
Has already been done.
In fact, you’re a collage of stolen attributes.
Your rarity, I’m afraid, is none.
Faith Osborn 
This poem is a bit dark, I know, and I assure you all that I don’t actually think this way. I originally was going to write a reflective poem on how much we are influenced in who we are by others and outside stimuli. I ended up with this. Also, it goes in ABCB form, not free verse; it may be hard to pick out.
Wow! Acidic! But – I LOVE it!
Well other than leave me completely depressed, this poem is extremely well written, and provides a very dark but intriguing persona that is very captivating. Props to you! 🙂