By Melissa Bachara
I am a contradiction
a perfect imperfection
On looking in from outside
I think I’d pass inspection
My nails are neat, each hair in place
My clothes the latest styles
But look a little closer,
And you can see my trials
The window to my balanced soul
Is stained from too much smoke
A birds eye view down at my heart
Will clearly show it’s broke
My best intentions lead to pain
And complicated messes
My head is filled with wishes,
My decisions second guesses
There was a time I tried to hide
each wrinkle, scar and tear
But I’m learning to appreciate
That I’m more than I appear
Each wrinkle tells a story
The path from there to here
I’ve earned a little wisdom
With every falling tear
My soul will soar in brilliant skies
But then I’ll need to rest
The embers of my passion
Still smolder in my chest
Perhaps I’ll let my hair go wild
And skip the manicure
I’ll wear my favorite color
They’ll say "Hey, look at her"
My hair, my heart, my clothes, my soul
Will walk in one direction
No longer contradicting
My perfect imperfection
This 'perfect' poem was posted in our Poetry Forum on July 12, 2005. Melissa is a freelance writer and graphic designer living in the United States.
© 2004, by Melissa Bachara. All Rights Reserved.
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