The more I look the more I see that people aren't transparent windows,
They are mosaics of glass, stained, like the kind in an old church
Made up of several different pieces glued together to make a whole,
Each piece showing a different color, a different shade of that person,
When looked at closely it looks messy, strange, and sometimes incomplete
But only back up and see the whole person, shards working together
To make a beautiful whole, that when the light shines through,
An array of colors and beauty is cast on everything around it