Mixed Nuts

Thrown together by circumstances outside our realm of control- as in a bowl our varied shells create a still-life a study in contrasts of creative coverings devised so well Some like smooth pebbles all polished and shiny or rough and scarred all coarse and craggy Some barely masked like peanuts, thin and papery others heavily armored walled off, impenetrable Light and dark bitter and sweet mere tender morsels in our shells vulnerability itself delicately raw ever so fragile and flimsy-frail Need for these shells protective coverings begs the question- Who hurt you? which echoes back over and over to you and you and you and you- Who hurt you? Was it your mother father, brother? Sister, cousin, uncle aunt? Can't we figure out who hurt who? Can't we stop this question chant? Who hurt you? Who hurt you? Who hurt who? Some would like to crack the shells open every one up wide- But, for me I'd have to take quite a different side For shells are Nature's loving way of protecting what is good so shells are not the enemy they're doing what they should!