Flawless Music

I retain all these faults that could make me flawless,

I can write rhymes, tell the time, though I really shouldn’t floss less.

But out of all the things to choose that could make me seem spotless,

I’d have to say there is no way I could not choose music.

I could wake up flawless with hair intact,

In my outfit, wrinkled, breath so bad,

But give me a cover of JT, relax,

And I’ll proceed to bring your sexy back.

That’s right, from Sheeran all the way to Kanye,

I can write and record what I want to say.

Put music down and lay a beat,

Then play it out on a live stage.

It’s my life, and my music,

I’ll sing and rap as I choose it.

A pick on the guitar or a foot on the drums,

I can even pluck a banjo for some Mumford and Sons.

My ability to sing is characterized

By a passion I follow and desire to write.

Mayer or Marvin Gaye, Sinatra or Michael Bublé

I fully believe that I can sing, no matter what my mind thinks.

I could lie to myself and think that my music will never sound flawless, see,

I mess up, fall apart, slack off, or act lawlessly.

But this music I pursue helps me let emotions out

So I can express myself and never belittle it down.

So when circumstances change,

Feelings are lost or friends turned estrange,

All hope feels gone and I’m strung along:

The music remains.

The music and the melody,

They will always be a part of me.

I put forth effort and fight to be heard,

And hope and pray people relate to the words.

In reality, am I truly ever flawless? No.

I could put everything I have into trying to seem perfect.

But regardless of how I’m viewed or whether everyone likes me or not,

I will always have my music (but maybe I should also floss…).