Broken Doll

In shadows rest the porcelain faces,
Fractured lines in delicate traces.
Once pristine, now worn with time,
Their cracks a silent, mournful rhyme.

But see the light that gently falls,
Upon these tender, broken dolls.
Each flaw is a mark of stories told,
Of love once fierce, of hands that hold.

Their eyes still gleam, though chipped and scarred,
A testament to battles hard.
No less adored, no less divine,
In their imperfection, they shine.

And so with us, the bruised, the torn,
The hearts that ache, the souls forlorn.
Our beauty lies not in the whole,
But in the courage of the soul.

For every break, a lesson learned,
For every scar, a fire burned.
Each flaw a thread, each tear apart,
Of what creates a masterpiece heart.

So cherish cracks and seams that show,
The lives we’ve lived, the love we know.
Like broken dolls, we stand, unique,
Beautiful, precious, bold, and meek.