If God had given me the pencil, to add a few more lines,

I think I would have changed some things

Like my constant second guessing, or my stomach, or my mind

The way my heart starts racing, at every little thing

My quirks and imperfections that all the world can see

Like these thoughts that I think, this finger with no ring

They’re little things that bother me, and hurt my self esteem.

I’m glad the pencil was not mine, when I was being drafted

Because I fear that I would be a perfect template

Made up of things my little mind can grasp

I’d lack the depth, warmth and emotion that I feel inside

And that would be no way to live

Sterile of the perfection that is our human imperfection

And lonely in my unimagined life of choice

I’m written this way for a purpose I’m sure

Perhaps change the world, perhaps just abide

But I’m fine just this way, as are you my dear

It’s best to be you, whoever you may be

The stars shine for us, so let’s go make a splash

In this beautiful mess of human brokenness