Perfect Flawfections – a poem

Perfection is overrated, our flaws define

Us in ways we’d see not without others

To observe, their patience a mirrored

Reflection, pool to absorb the ripples

Of our manifold inherent madness.


Rides rarely slow for us to take stock,

Our surroundings fast paced, lived

Through lenses tinted at times sped

Past limits of experience to confound,

Made simple by flawed reflections.



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