Broken

No one would pick a broken record,

Not when they have their pick of all the new ones.

They don’t pick the scratched ones.

Why would they?

When it’s broken,

You throw it away,

And that’s that.

Keeping anything that is broken is pointless.

It just takes up space,

Space that could be used for something new,

Something shiny,

Something not broken.

No one would pick a wilting flower,

Not when they have their pick of all the blooming ones.

They don’t pick the ones with the broken stems.

Why would they?

When they’re wilting,

You throw them out,

And that’s that.

Keeping a wilting flower is pointless.

They just take up space,

Space that could be used by something fresh,

Something that is blossoming,

Something that isn’t wilting.

No one would pick a broken person,

Not when they have their pick of all the hole people.

They don’t pick the ones with difficult pasts.

Why would they?

When their broken,

You throw them out,

And that’s that.

Keeping a  broken person is pointless.

They just take up space,

Space that could be used for a person who is full,

A person who is new,

A person who is not shattered.

But why is broken bad?

Why is it ugly?

When something is broken,

You can fix it.

It may take more time,

And more effort,

But shouldn’t it be worth it?

If you love what is broken,

Don’t just throw it out.

You may never find anything that is quite like what you once had.

Broken is beautiful too,

Just give it some time.