Imperfect Poem Novels & Stories

Aurora exclaimed, emphasizing her words in capital letters in the long sentence in 'The Angels' group. Laughter emojis filled Aurora's phone screen. She felt frustrated for always being the subject of their jokes. Aurora acknowledged that she had never been lucky in love, as if Lady Luck had forgotten that there was a maiden of love waiting for her prince. "Please, Cupid, aim your arrow at Mr. Two-Door Refrigerator so that he falls in love with me," Aurora said in a monologue, closing her eyes and clasping her hands together as if the person she referred to was right in front of her.

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,

The best she could hope for now was a civil relationship with her daughter until this Christmas tree fiasco she'd created was over and done with. Laura could see her reflection in the mirror across the room. She looked haggard, and she looked every one of her sixty-four years. She was old, and she had no purpose in life except to do what she called good deeds. If the truth were known, she didn't really do good deeds. She had ideas for good deeds that other people carried out with a lot of hard work, then she got the credit for those deeds. She heard her name on the local radio and TV news, and it was always her picture in the paper, never the drones who brought her ideas into fruition. In a

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.”

#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

Her voice was light and playful because it had to be. Ethan laughed, leaving a kiss on her temple. "Of course, love. You just need more sleep." But sleep wasn't the problem. Reality was. The house, the life, the husband-it was all too perfect. And perfection, she was starting to realize, was its kind of prison. --- The scent of freshly ground coffee and toasted bread filled the kitchen, blending with the crisp morning air. Ethan sat at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper as he always did, a portrait of effortless domesticity. A plate of eggs and fruit waited for Lena, prepared exactly as she liked.

The bloodlust vanished from the air like it never existed. “Well, at least I am perfect at being flawed…” Ezra sipped in the coffee, making loud slurping noises which was clearly annoying Raven even more. “I am flawlessly imperfect.” He continued in a dreamy tone, like he was reciting the hymn of the universe. “Imperfectum est perfectio. Perfectio est illusionis. Imperfection is perfection and perfection is illusion. So, you are an illusion, Raven.” He pointed his finger at Raven. Ouch. That must have hurt, and it clearly did. I gaped at Raven.

Cyrus stared at her in silence as she spoke further. “There is nothing wrong in being imperfect. Everyone lacks something it’s fine if you’re not perfect because this tells you that at the end of the day you’re also a human. A human who does mistakes. Being a human is being imperfect.” Cyrus blinked looking away from her as he licked his lips.

I write every. Five Red Echo, memories Every "FREE! Is that it?" I have to be sure before I type in anything again. I read the poem again. Five fragile hearts are forever down Sunsets fade red, and darkness spreads Amidst the ruins of a love own Echoes of memories that refuse to go Fading every dream, and hope is blind Eagle eyes watch, moments of failure's mown I write down the rhyming words at the end of each line. Down Own Mown