Tuesday 20 September 2016

A Poem That Doesn't Rhyme About Imperfection.

Why strive we so?
Why make we perfection our aim?

In a world of inevitable
mitigation to every joy
Perfection endlessly sacrificed
at the altar of reality

Never light
unless in it's embrace
darkness will cower

Never joy
but after the laughter
tears find cause for
realization

Never silence
but sounds clinging
to the air
from somewhere
sometime

Never love
but hate coiled
growing from the hurt
the very love produced

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