You sang once of perfection,
But perfection does not exist.
You sang aloud for answers,
And became perfectly amiss.
Your hair was long and
Imperfectly coiffed,
And your guitar strings
Were imperfectly taught.
You closed your eyes
And entered a world,
Where you could be
Imperfectly you,
And imperfectly cured.
But I found out,
The greatest thing at last,
That perfection is a
Thing of the past.
And as you sang, your face
became imperfectly long,
With your imperfect performance
Of your imperfectly written song.
And you'll ask me how you do,
And I'll tell you what is true,
That perfect, it simply is
Imperfectly you.
10/16/21
YOU ARE READING
ADHD Dribblings: Poems & Thoughts From A Mind Lost In Motion
PoetryA collection of poems dealing with love, loss, PTSD, disability, ADHD, addiction, depression, suicide ideation, eating disorders, women's rights, processing abuse & trauma, etc. Some are just making intrusive thoughts rhyme, some are just thinking...
