The Glass Bowl
The glass bowl holds it all together.
The beauty and the grace
The pain and the gross.
The glass bowl holds it together.
The rotten fruits and the ripe ones
The old and the new.
We are all held together like a firm glue.
To shatter into millions would be something undeniably dreadful.
They say that one bad fruit may turn all the rest
And of course I didn't believe them.
Not until my glass bowl was too full of rotten fruits.
Not until my glass bowl shattered did I realize
What exactly a rotten fruit might do
To a bunch seemingly pure.
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