Brittle

Glass is brittle, life too is

A glass breaks but life takes the knocks

Life only grows with time, it ages

Becomes huge in form and shape

Inside it stays a soft warm entity

An entity small, yet fierce

In happiness, it gives

In sadness, it takes

It’s the knocks on life that shapes it

Moulded to be malleable

Moulded to be brittle

What is malleable inside even in brittle bones

Stays still, enduring waves a mountain high

But a brittle that breaks from inside

Is beyond repair

Unless it finds a pair, equally in despair

Pieces that fits into each other

Mending and bending

Like a brook finds it way

Cutting through the rocks

Life finds a way cutting through the knocks

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