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Still Perfect
Dinner with my dad
Eating everything we had
Set out on the table
Talking about the label
'Memories of me'
And I confessed to be
And that I used to think
Without hesitation of a blink
I thought I was more
Than perfect to the core
Than everyone around me
But right now I can see
That it is not the case
For there is still enough space
Inside for imperfection
If I should lose to temptation
But my dad looks at me
And says so earnestly
His words forces my doubts to bow
"You are perfect even now."
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