Like the paintings of Picasso,
So vivid and original,
Yet dark and mysterious.
Like the butterfly that flickers around,
And the flowers that it
is attracted to,
Or the light that draws it nearer.
Like the blanket the homeless man carries,
Like the helping hand that gave him that blanket,
Like the "thank you" that came from the lips.
Like the crutches the child leans on to stand,
Like the legs of the chair that he sits
Like the arms of his mother that hold him tight.
Like the mind over the body,
Like your wants vs. your needs,
the plaintiff vs. the defendant.
a clean white blouse,
One stain and it's the end of the world.