Kid
Dear me,
You were a kid.
A score less than perfect?
Heaven forbid.
Every imperfection had you wrecked.
Perfectionistic tunnel vision was what you hid.
You struggled with self-neglect.
But one day, you got better at that.
Dear me,
If I had to go back,
There’s only one thing I would alter.
Don’t do something solely for a plaque,
Don’t let failure make you falter.
I love you, kid.
Copyright © Heather Rose | Year Posted 2023
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