She gave me a deformed M&M; and said
“Here.  It’s just like you.”
I took it and ate it, before she could take it back.

I savored every little bit of the blue candy coating and
decided it tasted the same as the rest.
The same as the “normal” ones.

She proceeded to give me a handful of differently colored M&Ms;
and I tasted each one.  They all tasted the same.  The same as
the deformed one.

She then gave me a broken and cracked M&M; and said
 “Here.  Just like you.”
I nodded and smiled as I once again took the candy,
knowing that this one would taste the same as the others.

Upon thinking more about these strange, chocolate candies
I remembered the M&Ms; that rested in a glass jar
atop my grandpa’s kitchen fridge.

They were the same as the deformed, broken, and regular ones now, yet
whenever he snuck us a small handful of those little, chocolate candies
they tasted better.  Special.
If only his hands could reach down from heaven now.