There once were two buckets
Who started out clean.
As time went by, one turned black as dust,
While the other still could gleam.
The black one collected so much dirt,
that its dirt would become as hard as brick.
Solid to the point that through it,
water could not prick.
Time went by and the clean one stayed,
And moved itself not, for scared of sullying itself it had become.
If they were to be judged on the water they had ferried,
no prizes for guessing which would have won.
And so as their wood rotted away,
The dark bucket was glad at the work it had done despite having dirt now caked to its brim.
Given that the gleaming bucket had done no work at all,
Let me ask you who is the saint and who is the sinner, on a whim?
penned. 26/02/2014. 3:48am