Imperfect you may call me,
And I am glad that I am.
Because these imperfections make me,
The person that I am.
For from my mistakes I learn,
Lessons that no one else can teach.
With life’s every turn,
I try to go as far as I can reach.
You judge me for how I look,
But I bet you know not about the harrowing pain I’ve been
I can’t live by the book,
The one with the rules made by you.
You may call me names,
But none of those matter to me.
For I know your reasons are lame,
And it is my life, so let me be me!
I’ll have wings so I can fly,
And make my dreams come true.
I am sure I’ll reach for the sky,
And I’ll be happy living my life the way I want to.
This poem is written for Three Word Wednesday- 462