The Best is Created; Not Found

M i s t a k e

I was never supposed to exist

I should just be some evaporated mist

I am translucent in the pale moonlight, the hand of solitude extended towards me

I take it willingly, knowing that no company at all makes the best

Knowing that no one looks at me without another glimpse

I am just some veil, some hallucination, or a silhouette nonetheless

I am like you though. I have a soul, a beating heart, and sometimes need a soft caress

I need a hand to wipe my tears

I need a story to eradicate my fears

Yet again, I am just some M I S T A K E

My face is just an eraser's failed attempt

I am just some scratched out flaw

I am devoured every second by the claws of imperfection

When I stare into the mirror for hours, there is no reflection

Not a sign of pigmentation or complexion

I am just like the dead poets, just a piece of their collection 

I want affection.

I want to be loved despite that I am see-through

Just some tell-tale work of fiction

I deserve to be admired, and noticed

But yet again those words flash again in mind

M I S T A K E