A sliver
Runs down the side
Of the beautiful vase
Something so perfect
With such an imperfect
Flaw
But it is still beautiful
The flowers on it try more than ever
To make themselves perfect
You can barely even notice
The sliver
But it's there
And if you look closely
You'll see that there's not one
But hundreds of slivers
And if you put your finger
On a precise part
The vase will shatter
The spiderweb of slivers
Is so small
So delicate
But they're there
And it almost makes you relieved
When you see them
Because you were scared
It was perfect
But it's not
Because nothing
Is perfect
Nothing
And if you touch a delicate spot
On anything
It will shatter
YOU ARE READING
Is There Such Thing As Perfect?
PoetryIs There Such Thing As Perfect? Is there? I'm being brave and doing something new. I don't write poems but a lot of them have come into my mind recently. They may not be perfect, they may not be great, they may not be amazing, they may not even be a...
