Fri, 03/06/2015 - 17:04 -- cjrzjr


Strip me of my signatures and you will be left with the essence of my existence.
Disregard the opinionated buttons on my backpack,
the black jackets and thick-rimmed glasses,
the t-shirts with musicians on them.
Take away the things that build preconcieved notions,
and there is only a teenage boy on a tightrope,
balancing spinning plates and riding a unicycle.

I've learned that perfection is not something I can set up;
I will not have a foolproof plan for the rest of my life,
I will not build a flawless image,
and for certain, I will make mistakes.

Perfection, instead, is something I'm fortunate enough to come across,
and despite all that can and will occur,
past the filters and the fakes,
perfection is something I chase every day.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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