An auto's made from many parts
By those who have attained the art
Of forming an assembly line
And adding one part at a time.

They make the body, wheels, and frame.
Without the paint they look the same,
And after pigment is applied,
They're still identical inside.

The auto maker has the right
To paint one black, another white,
Or any color that he deems
To be appropriate in between.

If the consumer had to make
A choice about the car he'd take
Before the craftsman adds the color,
Each one would look just like the other.

Our first concern is how it runs
And how much gas and oil it burns,
The ease and comfort of the ride,
Not solely how it looks outside.

Then why do we make such a fuss
When God omnipotent made us
With multicolored outer skin,
But made us all the same within?

Down underneath the thin veneer
Is joy, laughter, love, and care,
With vanity, hate, and deceit
Each struggling to be released.

Volition to each man belongs
To choose between what's right and wrong.
Each individual must decree
What kind of person he will be.

Each is the captain of his fate,
The product of decisions made,
And should be judged as bad or good
By who he is, not how he looks!

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