Shattered Frame.

If you had asked me a year ago

A simple question, nothing out of the ordinary

I would have had to say

“Fine. I’m fine. I’ll be fine, just give me some time.”


If you had asked me a year ago

A question that required more of an answer

I would have had to say

“Okay. I’m okay. I’ll be okay, just gotta wait-

Till I’m away.”


I used to be,

The picture-perfect frame

That people would walk by and say

“Beautiful! My, it’s beautiful! What a beautiful framed image!”


I am the,

The shattered frame

That people walk by and say,

“Shame! My, it’s a shame! What a shame- that shattered frame,”


Once a frame is shattered,

It doesn’t seem to matter

How beautiful it used to be

Only how broken it seems to be


A person, a group, a country

May feel at times, a bit insane

But it is not about the action,

Instead, it is about the reaction

That helps you unite with people

That are one in the same


But with time, things become more than fine.

The shattered frame wasstill broken

But one day, I realized I was more than okay.

Regardless of the attacks,

By a person or a president elect,

Nobody gets to decide if you are broken,

Except you


If you asked me today,

A simple question, nothing out of the ordinary

I wouldn’t have to say anything,

I would smile knowing,

I have fallen, I have learned, I have grown


The shattered frame

Is honest with oneself,

It no longer gives me pain

Knowing now that the

Picture perfect image,

Is all about how it’s framed.

This poem is about: 
My country


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