Imperfect Poem Novels & Stories

she continued, voice barely above the rain, “the only thing I was afraid of was never getting the chance to choose you again.” His chest tightened. “Lisa…!!” She reached for him then, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, not pulling him close….just anchoring herself. “I don’t want perfect,” she said. “I want honest. I want this—whatever this is—messy and real.” Grey rested his forehead against hers, breath mingling, rain blurring the space between them. “You have me,” he said. “No filters. No omissions. Even the parts I hate.”

* “I wanted to save everyone. Fix everything. Build a perfect world.” *Perfection is an illusion. You build better, not perfect. You create opportunities, not guarantees. And you remember that progress is measured in generations, not months. The work you do today plants seeds that may not flower for decades. That is how worlds change. Slowly. Painfully. Imperfectionally.* The presence faded, but I felt lighter. Less burdened by expectations of immediate perfection. I could not save everyone. Could not fix everything. But I could keep trying, keep building, keep planting seeds of better futures.

It was an order meant to be fulfilled immediately. The driver nodded. "I can try but I am not sure I am going to easily locate the place. But I can try. There is no harm in trying, right?" "There is absolutely no harm in trying out something new. After all, there came a time when the blind guys thought of spending time with the deaf girls in the evening. A time when the glory that left came back in a simpler form that only a few could understand. Even in the darkness, men still make merry. Even in the light, women still cry. And yet, many do not call that a poem but an epic fall from glory. What do you call it? How do you see it? Do you see it as an epic fall from glory or a poem about a man

#songs #AdamLambert. - Better than I know myself #TheScript #Army of angels Clara I'm not perfect .I've always said that; perfection isn't perfection unless there are imperfections visible... So we are all imperfectly perfect . There are some moments in life when you feel undeserving of what you have or like a total loser.I've had many of those days and weeks ,when I sometimes feel like I'm not being a good enough mother to my son , or perfect wife to my husband . When you wake up in the morning and wish you could fall back to sleep cause you hate feeling like you are failing at a role you should perfectly fit into cause you've had enough practice, however you still feel like you are always

The weather was a little cloudy and started raining in a while "O my I don't want to land into a ball with my dress drenched. Perhaps it will stop till I reach my destination" I thought It's crazy. Why they have chosen such a location which is away from the city and so deserted and why the roads are so empty. I checked the phone again only to realize about my stupid mistake. I've entered the wrong postal code." Great, this is what was needed! How can I be so stupid." I mumbled I took a reverse turn. The road was wet, slippery, and a little muddy. I lost the balance on my snooty. I might have hit the tall tree behind. Next, I know everything went black.

I knew at that moment that I had just crossed my boundary. ////////////////////////////////// Okay, so I have decided to give each chapter a status Frenzy(easy to write) Cranky( not easy) Frenzy but a little Cranky, you know what that is. This is imperfection, the first trilogy.

Song for the chapter : Perfectly Imperfect by Ada. *********** ~Kunmi~ It was Aminah parent's anniversary and I was supposed to be dressing up for the party but I just couldn't bring myself to stand up from my bed and get dressed. Aminah had sent their address immediately after our conversation on Thursday and she had even sent a reminder this morning.

What am I doing in my life? "I appreciate your compliment Mr. And Mrs. Grande but I am not a perfect person. No one is," I replied in my most respectful tone. I don't want to sound rude either way. But if the arrival of my words for them is rude, then that'd be fine for me. Besides, I can stand by my words. No one is living perfectly in this world. Everyone has its flaws, gaps, mistakes, failures and terrible sides. What made it perfect is the person who appreciated and accepted the person's imperfections. That would be pointed as imperfectly perfect.

I met a traveller from an antique land, Who said-"Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed; And on the pedestal, these words appear: My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away." P.B Shelley