Life is a decrepit, however invaluable crystal fixture;
Its features so delicate, however so complex;
Its packaging so important, however so haphazardly finished;
It's up to the UPS man; perhaps his day has been lackluster;
Perhaps his wife left him, and stole away his children;
And, perhaps, he's still a silhouette in a quickly advancing human race;
And, perhaps, he drops your package;
With a crash, your precious crystal privilege pours onto the ground;
It pulsates with a violent, rhythmic ripple, calypso-esque;
It makes a vile puddle of shattered value;
And, at the end of the day, the purpose is clear;
The purpose is the package; importunate;
And, at the end of the day the question is clear:
What can brown do for you?