Romans & histoires Imperfect Poem

He asks warmly, an affectionate twinkle in his eye. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m so tired of getting credit for things that just so happened to occur in my general vicinity.” I complain, slumping back and rubbing my full belly. “Not that I don’t appreciate the compliments… I just… perfection is an impossible thing to live up to… and I am so far from perfect it’s laughable. I don’t want to end up with a reputation that I’m destined to fall short of – I’m only human after all.” A moment after the words leave my mouth, I realize they aren’t true. “I mean, not human, but I’m just a person like everyone else.”

It was a jam session. When the gardeners finally stepped back, the plain was alive with a complex, ever-changing, and beautifully imperfect symphony. It was their first harvest. They hadn’t brought a solution from the outside. They had simply watered the dormant seeds of creativity already present and watched a new kind of garden grow. “You have introduced a paradox,” Prism said to them as they prepared to leave. The monotone was gone from its voice, replaced by a weaving melody of thought. “Imperfection leads to complexity. Complexity leads to discovery. This is… preferable to optimal efficiency.”

“What do you see? Because all I see right now is emptiness.” “Put enough imperfections together and, eventually, you will achieve perfection. But even then, perfection is all about perspective. Maybe you and Ivan and your imperfections will make the kind of perfect you both need.” She cupped my cheeks and kissed the top of my head. “Sit here, drink wine, and I will go and call my pain-in-the-arse twin to make sure he’s not taking a hammer to a door or something.”

I was surprised to hear her think like that. “What are you saying, Poppy? No one is truly perfect. I'm not even the ideal wife. My husband has his shortcomings too. None of our kids are without their faults. Take Faith, for instance—no matter how kind-hearted he is, I wouldn’t call him perfect. Maybe as a partner, yes, I believe he’ll be a perfect husband for you. But he has his weaknesses too, which means he isn’t perfect either. Every person has their own unique set of flaws, whether they’re physical or mental. That’s what makes us special, Poppy. It’s perfectly okay not to be flawless. Those imperfections help shape our identity. If everyone were perfect, we’d miss out on the chance to le

I'm also impatient, so I grab it and turn it over. The sketch is beautiful. A woman holding her heart in her hand. As I look at it, I tilt my head, her body appears to be melting in some ways. She looks beautiful, but like she is hurting, holding her broken heart in her hand. I begin reading the poem. Shattered reality A broken vision Sees imperfections Flaws and disfigured Beauty is the truth Truth is lost Bound by the words Fear that cripples Shattered reality Broken vision Unable to see the beauty

I grabbed onto my bed sheets and shut my eyes. "You're wet for me baby," he teased softly and in a voice that made me even wetter than I already was. I shivered as I released my hold on the sheets and moved my hands underneath his shirt, removing it and taking in his perfect fit. Why everything about this man has to be so damn perfect?

separated her from the lover. "I have another one titled How do I love thee. Elizabeth Barret Browning. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

D̶e̶a̶r̶ ̶G̶a̶r̶y̶ ̶D̶e̶a̶r̶ ̶E̶v̶e̶y̶o̶n̶ ̶D̶e̶a̶r̶ ̶E̶v̶e̶r̶y̶o̶n̶e̶ I need to be alone Please don't look for me It's better I̶'̶m̶ ̶g̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶l̶e̶a̶v̶e̶ this way I'm so sorry — Rowena Things needed to be kept brief. There was no time to say anything else. She had to get out before the others woke up. Or else she would never get to walk away. It was now or never.

“My Forever Love” I guess there was truth in the saying if life were perfect, it would be boring. I watched her walk towards Blake. She sat on his lap, weaved her hands around his neck, and kissed him on his lips. It was not just a kiss, she molded her mouth into him, and my eyes flicker, mouth open as I thought he answered that passionate kiss. I stopped breathing and felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. Do you know the feeling that you can hear them, but you seem to be far away? It was exactly what I was feeling right now. I didn’t know it was possible to have that extreme pain yet not feel it.

I sat down and thought of the first thing that came to my mind which was how I felt about myself right now. " I 've got lots of flaws I'm not perfect, I'm so imperect I make so many mistakes 'cause I'ma different human. I'm jealous I'm emotional I break rules I'm human after all I always feel I'm not living right I'm very conscious At every level of my life I've got a devil I've learnt not to trust no one Many timesI just want to shout it out loud to the world how it hurts to be human I've made stupid decisions, heart aching mistake and have irreversable regrets