You are Barbie, I'm Ken't.
I am Lee, and you're Grant.
I'm Hell Boy. You are God.
You're perfect. I'm not.
As you're flawless, superb, without fault and ideal,
Have you any idea, at your side, how I feel?
I look up; you look down, with contempt and rebuff.
I feel shit called guano, and I'm never enough.
Should I keep up appearances with perfection I fake?
I prefer to be honest, admit errors I make.
Our mistakes make us human. I'm more human than others.
Imperfections are perfect, it's what makes us all brothers.
"Learn from the mistakes of others. You can never live long enough to make them all yourself." — Groucho Marx.
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Precious Poetry
PoesiaFrom PROBLEM to POEM in 7 steps the Why, Where, When, What, Who, How & Wow of writing poetry Ai Ni and Ronaldo made this book to help poor people in Haiti, to build a school and teach them the art of a happy life. A warning upfront from the editor:...
