I am not perfect…

I am not perfect,

Nor do I claim to be.

I only aim to be,

The real me that I’d like to see.

So while you stand on your matchbox pedestal

Turning up your nose

At all my faults and flaws and shortcomings

And all that you suppose

 

Is the reality of my life

And the reason for my distance

From you and your perfect everything

And my not wanting your assistance

 

To carbon copy the essence of

Your tiny, made-up world

Where the bubble seems to only fit

The persons that you can twirl

 

Around your scrawny little finger

With your compliments, oh so coy

Then throwing snide remarks about

At the cost of someone else’s joy

 

No thank you, I am fine right here

On my little patch of green

Working hard to help it bloom and blossom

Into the most beautiful scene

 

That will encourage some other poor longing soul

Who you’ve held tight in your grasp

To see the true sadness behind your happy façade

And get to work on their own damn grass!

 

So they can be truly happy

And let go of misery and dread

And giving up thinking the worst of themselves

And see their best potential instead

 

So I will stay here in my little corner

Productive as I can be

For while you stand there judging away

I’ll simply working on me.

 

With the Lord, my best friend

And I, working hand in hand

To make me His divine instrument

Oh! Doesn’t that sound grand?

 

For I know I am not perfect

Nor do I claim to be

And the only thing I aim to be

Is the best me that I can possibly be.

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