Broken

I'll tell you a story.
Of how broken things
are the strongest.

Remember, how you had broken
your mom's favourite vase when
you were small?
And how she had put the pieces
back together with glue.

Remember, how you had
fallen down while cycling and
hurt your knee and elbow?
And how the doctor had
put the right ointment to
make it heal fast.

Remember, how you had your
first crush in school, and had
realised how she was already in a
relationship or how he was not interested?
And how you moved on,
by paying attention to things that mattered.

Remember, how yesterday,
you couldn't get what you really wanted,
and how you cried till
you couldn't cry anymore?
And how you picked yourself up,
and faced everything that had happened.

There have been so many times.
When you've fallen, broken,
hurt yourself, physically and mentally.
But, with every fall, and crack you
grew stronger.
Strong enough to look into the eyes,
of everything that shook you.
Left you unaware of how
fast it happened.

We're all broken.
We all have scars.
Some, from an old wound as a kid,
and some, as a reminder
to never hurt ourselves again.
It's just that one difference between us.

Are you strong enough to
learn from those scars,
or are you so tired, that you
succumb and accept it that things
can never be the same.

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