beauty in the broken

beauty. usually that word is compared with flowers so delicate, small, and without blemish. this is so only a select few can fit under the category of beautiful. but, why can’t we be beautiful like a tree or rock or river? they are very beautiful yet no one cares to notice. a tree has leaves that fall like teardrops because no one seems to notice her. with a tough outside, she stands rooted strongly as the pain and lies that she’s not beautiful overwhelms her. to most, she seems normal with nothing special about her. her rough bark keeps onlookers from reaching within and seeing all her scars. this way, they can’t rip off the carefully placed bandages that cover her wounded heart. a rock is small but still strong. she is kicked from place to place, the road always chipping away at her strength. the sunlight hits a part of her that shines with a glittering light. but no one cares. she’s just a rock. they’ll never notice her beauty. a river flows; always running and never stopping to rest. she is called dirty and impure for the things that others have done to her. no one reaches deep within to see that she is just as beautiful and crystal clear as any other body of water not yet destroyed by the world. and so on and on she runs. these may be broken but their beauty shows through to me perhaps even brighter than that of a flower.