Imperfect
You love me, as imperfect as I am
because I fought for you, stood up for you,
because I’ve always been there for you
yet you have no one here to talk to.
What a flawed, imperfect world we live in,
when the little I can still offer
and the smiles and tantrums of a little man
are enough for you to embrace the hollow.
For some, a safe haven and an embrace are enough.
Enough to live for, love for, die for…
enough if you never knew better before;
imperfectly perfect… full, but not enough.
I would’ve shown you this, had you asked
and maybe you’ll still read this soon,
but this is not the poem you deserve
because you deserve a spark that is not there.