Confession of a Substandard Stranger

A flawless man, no imperfections - This I am not.

I am naught in existence, yet my persistence is taut

My mamma taught me this way, what to say; what to do

The due we all pay when we live a life true

My true colors emerge as I vie and I write

Right and wrong become twisted, just a big jumbled sight

As the site that I live, rubble and shambles

I shamble through town seeing beauty, I ramble

While I ramble I stop and as I stop and descry

I cry and break down as I stare eye to eye

With him, me, you, I

The reflection of a man not broken and here

I hear voices that scream, ”You have nothing to fear!”

For we all have flaws that have flaws that could not wash away

In a way we are all perfectly imperfect

(And that’s okay)