Broken Crayons Still Color

I see you — quiet in crowds, loud in your mind,

Chasing peace that’s so hard to find.

You laugh like nothing's wrong at all,

But you're crumbling behind that wall.

You give and give, but seldom receive,

You dream in color, yet quietly grieve.

Your heart is a canvas, splattered and torn,

But even from cracks, new light is born.

They told you “you’re too much,” too deep, too kind,

But maybe the world is just too blind.

To see the magic in a soul that feels,

To hear the thunder that silence reveals.

You are not weak for needing more,

For searching for meaning, aching at the core.

You are a poem this world can't recite,

Too vivid for darkness, too gentle for fight.

So stay soft — even when it stings,

Even broken crayons still paint beautiful things.

Your cracks make constellations, your pain makes you true,

The world needs more people exactly like you.

Don’t hide your colors to fit their grey,

Shine, even when it scares them away.