We see life through a prism,
   After the light is split,
We see only light's colors,
   Not the source of it.

All the colors of the rainbow,
   Here we can find.
Yet, we spring from one source,
   Born the same kind.

On the other side of the prism,
   Are we all the same?
Some think that's the answer,
   I think it'd be a shame.

We might find a kind of peace,
   If color's didn't show.
But what good is peace at all,
   If we lose the rainbow.

                --T.F. Ragsdale