nice

There were two women who never got to know each other.
 The first one I do not remember. The second I call Mom. 
Two different lives created to give me mine. 
One lit my star. The second was my sun.
 The first gave me life. The second taught me how to live it. 
The first created in me the need for love. The second was there to give me love. 
One gave me an origin. The second, gave me an identity. 
One gave my talent. The second, a goal with it. One gave me the ability to feel. The second, was there when I felt uneasy. 
One saw my first smile. The second wipe my tears. 
One searched for me a home she could not give me. The second asked for a child, and her wish came true. 
And now ask myself, through the tears, the age old question that has remained unanswered through the years. Heredity or environment, what am I a product of?

 Neither darling neither, just two different kinds of love.