Imperfect Poem Novels & Stories

I watch as the words come to mind but never leaves her lips, she has been rendered speechless. "The thing is, Becca, there is no perfect lover; we are all flawed, but knowing those flaws and still loving with all your heart creates perfect love. I will never look further than you, my love. If my heart is a flower waiting to bloom, your love is the only sunshine it needs." "Josh?"

He asks, I sigh looking down I guess I was getting worked up. "It just needs to be perfect, it's the first Christmas we're all together as a family, it's our first Christmas together being well together and it's my first Christmas back home with my family," I say, he smiles placing the dresses on the side so he could hold my hands in his.

"Like a summer day, the Empress shines on us. Her black hair brings us the coolness of night; Her watchful eye provides us safety. We owe all we have to her power and might Without her we would crumble to dust Each day is a day to serve the Empress faithfully And on this day of days we give her praise Glory to the Empress." Aurora curtsied at the end and awaited a response. Standing behind her mother, her father smiled kindly. He had appreciated her effort. But her mother? She did not look amused. "You call that poetry? You could have at least made it rhyme." "It's free verse," the girl whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "That's not the only liberty you've taken today. Now what shall yo

Honestly, Randy initially seemed skeptical, but after tasting Ghea's cooking, it turned out the food was indeed as good as the girl had claimed. "Why only 9? Why not 10?" protested Ghea. She had done her best to cook so that her food would be perfect. "Well, because 10 or perfection belongs only to God, Ghe," Randy replied casually, smiling. Then he continued to enjoy his meal until everything on his plate was gone. Believing that her husband enjoyed what she had served, Ghea tried to find the right moment. Anxious hope mixed with embarrassment, afraid that her request might be outright rejected by her husband. But if she didn't try, how would she know the result, right?

The chirping of birds added to Laura's blossoming mood as she reminisced about the first time she had met Aryan, their unconventional marriage contract, and now, the love that bound them together. Love was indeed peculiar; when you pursued it, it often eluded you, and when you walked away, it came offering happiness. Laura had once thought that she and Aryan would never fall in love because their separation had been written in black and white. But everything seemed futile as time and emotions played their roles, slowly seeping into the depths of their hearts. Love was indefinable in any dictionary; it truly reigned in the heart, speaking only the language of emotions.

In a very irregular handwriting, it was written: a silent road, free of traffic noise, in a moonlight, this era is older than me, ‘cause am still lost in finding out, What is love? Is it the perfection in life? Or a smile of pain? To miss those who are lost? Or maybe wanting the impossible? I know, you think I am smart. But I can’t understand the feeling of sadness. Why I get lost, in the memory of those, Who are not coming back. I don’t understand,

Now the porch was empty, just the way he was empty. It was full dark now, a breeze swept over the tops of the trees to make them sway. an hour past supper. The only thing he'd eaten today was a frozen Tv dinner at lunchtime that tasted like cardboard because the pot of stew he'd made wasn't done cooking. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered. He sighed.

he says playfully, placing his forehead against my shoulder, and making me chuckle. "I'm sorry... Nate, I'm not perfect. There are many flaws to me. Flaws that you may not like. I'm sorry, but I just." I say as I pull away. "Maybe we just need to give it time. We'll just have to wait and see. Only time will tell if we are meant for each other." I say as I cup his face and place a small kiss on his lips.

I added, and he looked at me confused. “We see many people in our life who are perfect and imperfect as per our list, we have in our mind about perfections and imperfections. Just because one person is the perfect doesn’t mean that he is perfect as a partner to any person too. So Raj is the perfect guy I can ever know which you too accept, but he is not perfect for me.” I said explaining everything. He nodded after a few minutes and said, “You need not resign and my asking you to do that is my stupidity.”

He'd stopped mentioning it. Some things were allowed to be imperfect. Some things were allowed to be his. This was a lesson that had taken him longer than he wanted to admit. He was a perfectionist—not in the casual way that people used the word, but in the actual way, the way that meant the gap between what he could imagine and what he could execute was a source of constant low-grade frustration. He had spent years trying to close that gap, trying to make the thing he made match the thing he imagined, trying to eliminate the distance between vision and reality.