“I feel the same,” you say; but oh, my friend,
There’s no such
thing as same. Distinct is king.
“It’s just like that!” we cry, but in the end
Nothing’s
identical to anything.
Equality’s a myth; we’re all unique,
Distinguished by
our attributes alone.
And though true harmony is what we seek,
There’s something
false in every undertone.
Life is all puzzle pieces which don’t fit
That we will
stitch into a perfect quilt.
When we see chaos, we make sense of it.
Our eyes design
because that’s how we’re built—
Blind to what’s
visible, we give a name
To what’s not
there. Because we’re all the same.
Copyright 2016 Matthew J Wells
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