Imperfect Poem Novels & Stories

My friends expect you to overcome because of so many achievements but none of them guaranteed that you would stay, none of my words convinced you to be here. I lift my body from the sand feeling the grains crumbling and out of sheer selfishness I wish you were feeling this way, I don't want to be the only one missing something so perfect. This is our flaw - we are too perfect for each other, unable to deal with glaring defects, holding each pain in our throats just to maintain mistrust instead of building something solid between us.

The sound of my ringtone was starting to fucking piss me off. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand just as it stopped ringing. A message notification popped up and I hesitated opening it, but then I did, my expression blank as I read through the message. Dad: Where the hell are you? You’re a fucking disappointment. Do you ever get anything right? Every single time I give you responsibility, you screw it up. You’re still as incompetent as ever. Just useless. A complete failure. I wasn't fazed by his insults. It didn’t even sting anymore. Failure, Incompetent, Useless, Pathetic, Disappointment, name it. There's nothing I've not heard him say.

‘So impatient’ ‘You will learn how impatient I can be once I rip that asshole to shreds. Get here now!’ he demands, then cuts us off. “Be careful,” he said. His lips crashed down on mine, but I felt nothing—no spark, no warmth, just an empty sensation that left me feeling disconnected. I waited for the spark, the flutter in my chest, but it never came. Instead, his lips felt stiff, so cold and utterly wrong.

It was night. Evanna trudged through the rain, her suitcase trailing behind her, heart heavy with sorrow. Her tears had long been overshadowed by the rain; she seemed to hear silent whispers mocking her failed marriage. Every eye she saw became a judging eye as if they were silently telling her it was her fault. But it wasn’t her fault, but her husband’s. He was the one who lacked patience. He was the unfaithful and despicable one. He was the one to be blamed, not her!

We walked towards the door and Emily paused as she turned her attention towards me. “How long would it take me to become perfect in ballet?” She asked, looking right at me with keen interest. I rolled my eyes searching for the right answer to give to her. “Perfect? It's gonna take a little while,” I began and then walked towards her. “Or let's say, true ballet is an art, and one rarely reaches perfection!” I co ntinued as I bent to stare right into her eyes, she nodded in understanding, but I doubted she did. Not everyone was willing to accept that fact and ended up ruining themselves with the thought of how incompetent they were.

He began to speak again, his voice quieter now but still clear enough for everyone to hear. “I called this piece Perfection,” he said. “Not because the woman in it is flawless, but because she represents something perfect to me. Something rare. She’s strong, but gentle. She’s been through things, yet she still carries light. To me, she is perfection — not in the way the world defines it, but in the way she exists. She doesn’t have to try. She simply is.” I felt my eyes start to sting.

I've fallen for a knight He shoots me this arrow of love I can't resist It's impeccable! It's impeccable! It's impeccable! It's an impeccable feeling for the impeccable you. I sang as i thought of him, i had no idea I've being crying again, I remembered my dad's word "tears does not solve problems" i wiped my tears but my eyes still watered, my stomach grumbled cos I've not eaten and I my didn't know when I slept off. ***

“The best poet of the day is NOBODY BUT Perez,’’ she announced and immediately the whole class roared with laughter. That was impossible, everyone knew it was in the realm of impossible things, how could that even happen. “ If you think your poem is better than that of Perez, raise your hand up,’’ she dared. Sasha immediately raised up her hand, taking the challenge, anyone could have done it easily, it was common knowledge that Perez couldn’t do anything, she couldn’t write a poem, do any math’s or answer a question correctly, unless Jesus himself came down and performed a miracle on my head. One person moved to the front of the class to read both poems. Sasha’s poem The only man, Who has e

Perfect in all its imperfect, struggling, beautiful glory. Theirs. Completely, utterly, wonderfully theirs. Forever.

Not improved. Just… changing. Theodore’s voice is tight. “That looks like failure.” I shake my head slowly. “No…” Because I can feel it. Deep in the connection. “It’s not failing.” Aurelion’s light flickers sharply. “…It’s experimenting.” The First Imperfect Choice The pulse releases. Jagged. Unbalanced. Wrong in every way the system used to avoid. It hits the space between us and nothing breaks. Nothing evolves. Nothing improves. For a split second