A Perfect Blueprint To Imperfect Mess


Born to be perfect,
is all I've heard my entire life,
Born to be in the limelight
which people desire me to be,
my whole life is a blueprint,
Structured, systematic, PERFECT.
One day I wake up
feeling a little different,
wanting to be something,
something that's not created before now,
something that makes me
feel happiness and indescribable joy.
I don't want to be
stuck in a blank, black and white movie,
I want colours splashing
with emotions for me to express.
Tonight my glass slippers won't fall off,
instead, I'll be walking barefoot
along long grass, across the beautiful meadows
singing my joy and happiness
of being an imperfect mess.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem