Broken

People want to think the world is broken. That there's always something to fix. And there is, but rarely is it something broken. A girl with a skirt too short. A boy with hair too long. A woman who wants the bump in her belly gone. A man who can't tell anymore what's wrong.

There is sadness in the world, but we misplace our efforts when trying to help. We ignore charities when they come knocking on the door.

Then shun the homeless just for being poor. Still we turn around, when someone challenges their way of life, and defend them because we do understand their strife. But when everyone leaves them alone, we leave them too. Because how can we give someone else a home, when at some level we don't believe they deserve one.

We wish to help the broken in other countries but refuse to help our own.

Now here is the true mistake of misconstruing what is broken.

Telling someone they're too dumb, or too smart. That they need to stop gorging themselves, or eat a full meal for a start. That they can't like this or that. Because what they were born as decided if they play with dolls or a baseball bat. We tell children they can be anything they want, then shut them down when they answer an astronaut. We try to give advice where it's not needed. To people happy as they are but become sadder once someone suggest they're a garden that must be weeded. We forgot though, what weeds truly are. They're the plants we don't want because when they grow they go too far. Doesn't that say something about us? That we think the things that can't be controlled should be destroyed, all because their invictus personalities leave us annoyed. When was it decided that roses that took everything being just right to survive were more important than dandelions who could triumph over any condition? When was it decided that being pampered made something more valuable than something that fought for its right to live?

This is our broken world. We want roses when dandelions have to fight everything to survive. Fight all attempts at weeding when someone decides they don't match the garden by digging their roots deeper.

We break the things that are strong and just hanging on but caress the things that are already striving.

Somehow that just seems wrong.