Gray

You,
whose name carries a familiar ring.
I've seen you countless times before
yet I know nothing of you.
A shroud of mystery,
empty mystery.
I look at you
and see bits of him,
parts of her,
traits of those around,
but never you.
Then again,
who EXACTLY are you?
You run fast, but never faster.
Never stronger, never on top.
Just a wanderer of the gray
soulless background
that fill the gap between the ones
who shine.
Every time I look in the mirror
I ask,
"Since when did I stop
seeing me, and started
seeing you?"