Sparking gem,
Dainty ornament of finest detail,
Glowing from inside,
Sparkling blue like the ocean.
Tinkling bell giving butterflies to those who heard.
Inside, a heart full of happiness,
And a soul pure and innocent.
If you held that ornament
And really looked at it
You would see
Just how fragile it was.
See what was beyond the surface,
Observe the depth of its possibilities on the inside.
But it was held by someone
Who did not appreciate its inner blessings,
Focussing only on the perfection on the outside.
So when he realized there were complexities within,
That it was more than an impeccable jewel to dazzle his eyes.
The ornament was carelessly tossed aside.
And it shattered into a million tiny pieces.
What was inside lay there bare and raw,
Unable to do anything.
Exposed, vulnerable, and alone.
So, with nothing left,
She scooped up the shards
and started to re-build.
She smoothed and re-formed the exterior.
Day after day,
Patting and patching.
Until once again the ornament looked whole.
From the outside.
But the inside
Was still broken.
With its jagged pieces,
Rough edges,
And tiny shards
To remind her,
Whisper to her,
Taunt her,
Leave her unsettled.
So that now,
Even though she looks
The same on the outside,
On the inside,
She doubts.
She feels the pain.
The damage and the loss.
She lacks confidence,
Is haunted by a cruel ghost,
Telling her there is something wrong with her.
On the inside she is still broken.
Every move she makes,
She is reminded.
Memories open old cuts.
Scars attempting to heal are still painful.
She is ashamed.
She wants to hide.
She wants to forget.
She wants to give up.
The glow that gem used to have
Is dull.
Like the colour of rainy day.
And the bell no longer rings as freely,
Its sound now a sorrowful song.
And the ornament is so much more likely to break again,
For inside she is barely holding it together.
