Positivity Without Perfection

The glass statue,

That steals my weary stare,

From unquenchable darkness to crisp shining skies,

Are there cracks in the crystal?

Is there blood in the water?

No, of course not.

This China figurine,

Seemingly, terribly easy to smudge,

A mauve bruise on an elegant arm,

Are there cracks in the crystal?

Is there blood in the water?

No, of course not.

These gilded idols,

Mere ghosts of innocuous idiocy,

Transcendent stained glass is from broken shards,

Are there cracks in the crystal?

Is there blood in the water?

Yes, yes, of course it is.