Here in the church sits the girl with two faces,

Parted forehead to chin; cut apart yet adjacent.

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The beautiful side – a pink cheek, soft, bloodless

With half an upturned smile – is the side called Success.

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The other side – gray, dead, lacking composure,

Half-lips cold to the touch – is the side we call Failure.

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Her jaw is still perfect, her nose still intact,

Her hair flowing in curls on her shoulders and back.

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But her eyes tell her story, they replay it all.

One eye sees victory – the other, downfall.

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Success has a green eye: mascara, eyeliner,

And a pupil so large, it sees before the after.

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Failure’s eye is green too, but lifeless – as if glazed.

It sees hopelessness, emptiness, all joy erased.

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Success and Failure are joined at the lips.

But provoked, just Success will give you a kiss.

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And when tried, ignoring Failure is not hard to do

…Except when her whole face is looking at you.