The Tissue and the Degree


The tissue and the degree.

Both, are 'just' paper.

Both, potential,

to remove the speck of dirt that is

restricting one's vision.

To wipe the tears of those who are sad.

To stop the bleeding of one's hurt.

To invade the grossest parts

of our very own human nature

and to depurate, make clean.

After which they are promptly tossed,

a grim reminder that

significance

is not found in the mere existence of the paper,

but power lies in what you do with it.

We all become ashes,

when the end of time is due.

Fragile in the matter of material.

Both, valued nothing more than what

the beholder yields with it,

Both, 'just' paper,

the degree and the tissue.

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