Image Source: Unsplash- Ted Balmer
A rock stood firm through storm and sun,
Unmoved, unbroken — by anyone.
Yet deep within its hardened seam,
A crack appeared — like a silent scream.
That crack was pain, unseen, unshared,
The weight of all the times it cared.
Anxiety carved its name so deep,
It woke the wounds the rock would keep.
But from that scar, a flower grew —
Soft, yet strong, in morning dew.
Its petals whispered, calm and free,
“Even the broken can find therapy.”
The rock still bears its marks of fight,
But now they shimmer in the light.
For healing blooms where hurt once stayed —
In every crack, new life is made.
This was written by our contributing writer, Habibul Bashar.
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