Perfect
my palette is encrusted
with all the dried remnants
of yesterdays hopes
where strokes of genius and folly
were first born in
a fresh imagination
my canvas
overlaid with realities
correcting unfinished pieces of dreams
that were once so perfect
so beautiful that nothing else
would ever do
expectations sketched with
a once steady hand
until one day
i stood back
embraced reality
and
the priceless gifts of
imperfection
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