Perfectly Imperfect

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Perfectly Imperfect

What makes anyone perfect?

Is it the style of their shoes or designer purses ?

Or how 'bout the cost of  the new car that cost an arm and a leg?

Maybe it's their hair or how 'bout the Mac they wear upon their faces

Who knows, maybe it's all the people that worship every move they make

The ones who imitate their ways, and say that their true selves are a mistake.

In a world where god is in the form of a  hundred dollar bill and the church is all its adoring fans trying to reach the gateway of heaven that is admiration

Who's to say that with more money, more friends, you are not flawless or the meaning of perfection ?

But, while the world is controlled by the almighty dollar, I am a rebel.

While society cries out for others to be in their likeness, I am the one who stands out.

I am that person that strives to be the opposite of the latest trend

I know that my money or my friends does not make me who I am

That whether I'm rich or poor, I am my own person

I am not the person on the silver screen, or the person with the million dollar mansion

I am not the girl with the hot boyfriend or the girl with her daddy's large pension

I do not have a crowd of adoring fans or my name in lights

I am not the person who leave their mark for everyone to copy and think it's right

I am my own mind, my own body, my own soul

I know that I am not perfect,  and yes I have my flaws

But I love my flaws, it's what makes me unique

I will make myself perfect by being imperfectly me

My perfections will not be someone else's ways

My flaws will be my own to create

No one can tell me who I am or what I'll be 

I am perfectly imperfect, and this is who I choose to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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