Imperfect, marred flower,
should I pass you by,
look for another
more worthy of this
camera’s eye?
Technically, you are not even
whole,
a story you withhold
would fill in the gap,
but literally, physically,
that part will never grow back.
I wonder if this missing piece
was selflessly given
or tragically taken,
a sudden explosion
or slow disintegration.
I wonder if you are marred
inside,
if you have hollow spaces,
pain,
you hide.
Does the breeze bring
the sting of hurtful whispers,
the sun reflect the sneers,
from the others?
I respect your tenacity;
no evidence of giving up.
I admire your self-love,
the way you hold yourself up,
head high,
boldly,
challengingly,
despite it,
despite them,
spite-free.
Your colors seem brighter
than the rest,
your uniqueness intrigues me,
so much more is your
less.
All of those others
deemed so pretty
blend together in a spectacular sea
of sameness.
I passed by them all,
their pictures I did not take.
You are the only one
who drew me near,
not by mistake.
You are the one
who filled the lens,
and my thoughts,
and my pen,
caught me
forever
with your
imperfect
perfection.
Poem and image Β©Laura Denise
A metaphor!
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π
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Lovely π»
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This is a delightfully written moment … π
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absolutely delightful … well penned!
Looks like someone took a bite π¦
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I’m glad you took a bite out of my poetry. π Thanks for your feedback.
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There’s beauty in everything. Don’t let go of the beauty.
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Wonderfu! Yes, uniqueness is perfection!
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