As smoothly as a rose
Is painted on a canvas
With careful yet spontaneous strokes.
A child grows.
The paint of their life
Is mixed with perfect pinks,
Crimsons, reds, yellows, whites
Until the hues glow and blend
Into a portrait of perfection.
Then, one drop of black,
One simple artist’s mistake,
Steals away the beauty, the harmony,
Rendering the rose no longer visible.
The life of the painting is
Ruined, by one drop of color
That does not match
The beautiful, intricate rose.
For the eye is drawn to its black color,
And it soon becomes all one can see,
Consuming the rose
That is a thousand times its size.