Beauty

I was wondering why is pain so creative and beautiful, poems just flow out when there is something depressing. Is it that it makes you more creative, or is it that you just realize your potential and decide there is not use crying over spilled milk? May be, may be it just makes you strong, makes you believe that there is nothing lost and a whole life awaits for you. But if it does all this why do people cry when they have lost something, are they, who don’t cry just to realize that life goes on, and take it with an open hand, are they not stronger, then why are they often criticized as cowards. I guess, two opinions on every topic is always going to remain. And guess what that’s the beauty of life, two co-exist with the conflicting human nature.