We seem to believe
That someone's problems
Are dark drops in clear water
Can't see through, too solid

We can’t separate
The drops from the water
The dark from the clear
The people from their problems

Like they’re one in the same
And all they’ll ever be
We’ve let problems become
Someones identity

But a rose is not a thorn
And a cactus, not a needle

They are people with problems

and not problem people.