We are bricks

I'm going to write about something concrete.
Like the grass on the ground or the computer I type on.
The fact that we do live on earth, and trees grow from the ground.
That's concrete.
With abstract things-- can you go farther in depth?
I don't think so.
A Brick is concrete.
What can I say about a brick?
I can say all the concrete details about it.
It's red, rough, hard, made of sun dried clay.
But there's so much more to it.
There's potential for greatness.
Kind of like people.
You can look at anyone and say what they are made of.
We are all made of the same things, just like bricks.
But we all create different things.
And that's concrete right?
One may be an oven, or a house.
But we all started as just a brick.
It's what is built that people see us as.
Bricks are mended together with mortar.
Life experiences; illness, school, friends, family, etc.
That's our mortar.
So really, we are Bricks.
Every last one of us.