The imperfect picture

Still captures life, still comes from vision, still uses light.

Is still worth a thousand words,

Is still a memory.

 

The incorrect manuscript

Still tells a tale, still has a climax, still gives detail.

Is still worth the printing,

Is still a world.

 

The discordant music

Still holds a song, still has a melody, still rings along.

Is still worth the hearing,

Is still a wonder.

 

The imperfect picture is still thrown away.

The incorrect manuscript won’t see light of day.

The discordant music will never be played.

A memory lost, a world destroyed, a wonder hidden.

 

An imperfect man is still worth your time.

The incorrect person is still, at times, right.

The discordant rebel is still worth the fight.

 

We’re supposed to be perfect, but it gets carried away.

Imperfections have beauty; it’s just harder to say.

Before tossing the picture, the paper or song,

Look for the beauty that’s there all along.