Broken Crayons Still Color

I've come to the conclusion that we are all broken in our own way. We're all made of glass but we all have our own breaking point. And despite what others may think, breaking is not just classified to that group of depressed kids, scattered and alone. We walk these halls with our own cliques and individual friends but do we really know the very thing that makes each other break? Do we know each other as a whole? Or perhaps we gave one broken piece to each member of our group and everyone knows us as someone different. No one has the same exact response when asked just who we are. But it comes to this fact, everyone is broken and everyone is breaking. Whether it's physically, mentally, or emotionally. We're all deteriorating into non-existence, into the next life, where we will re-break all over again. Sometimes we enjoy a little rain but can't handle the hail, or vice versa. Even the celebrities with seemingly perfect lives have something inside tearing at them. The homeless man on the street. Your terrible boss at work. And even the bully at school. Each person has something about them that is broken, and that makes them who they are. But being broken does not mean being weak. No, being broken means survival. Because crayons still colors the same color after being broken in half.