Perfectly Flawed

They stare.

They stare hard

at her hair.

They Judge.

They Judge her hard

for her posture.

And because she has an absent father.

No one to relate to.

No one to talk to.

Looking for an escape

She runs and runs.

Until she can’t but then…

She’s Engulfed by warm arms.

She rests her head on the sweet ladies bosom

Only to hear the loud sound of

sweet songs filled with rhythm and blues in place of a heartbeat.

Nevertheless it’s Rhythm that gets her moving.

Blues that sound like hers.

Finding comfort

          She too begins to write.

          Not caring whether they applaud

       Or approve with a simple nod.

        Let them stare.

            Let them judge.

         Because she’s okay being perfectly flawed.