Accepting Imperfection

She's a view

My glances seeking, short, but few

She'll frown and she'll sigh and she'll say unto me

That she's dull, a bore, and simply not pretty

To me, however

She's the world 

And all thereof

The birds and the clouds

The sky above

She's got dimples when she smiles, a stutter when she speaks

Wild, frizzy hair, and stars upon her cheeks

And although, despite, however

Her bumps, her cracks- all together

Make her wish she were someone else

I'd love her more and more

Regardless of her cuts, wilts, bruises, or sores

She's new, she's different, and that's fine

I'd tell her so a million times, even if she's never mine

To make her see what I see in her own reflection

That's the goal

But the first step,

Is accepting imperfection