I wrote this riddle poem (you have to guess the title) the other day: 

White flecks, catching the sunlight
As it slowly fades from the sky
White, and yet each one a different
Shade, each made of the same
Substance, yet placed in a
Different way, so when the rays
Hit them, each one shines in
Its own way, and they are no
Longer identical. But they
Can’t see the way the sun
Illuminates them, can’t see that
They have been changed, they
Can only feel the cold stone
Beneath them, see the packet
From which they spilled, and
Clamor to repair the rip, to
Climb back inside and be as
One once more, away from
The warmth which to them
Feels so cruel.

I'm praying for you!

:)