Flawless.

Flawless?

It simply isn't true.

You say I need to love myself,

And I concur, I do.

But if I claimed flawlessness?

Then this very day I'd rue.

Yes, I can be brave

Kind, and funny, too

But to say that I am flawless?

Well this, I cannot do.

To be quite honest with you,

I veiw it as an insult.

My flaws create my very being,

And thy show my very heart.

Yes, maybe I am awkward, grumpy,

And a little crazy, too.

 Maybe I don't always ryhme.

Perhaps I'm immature, and running out of time.

But I love my awkward spirit.

I love my grumpy eyes.

I love that when I start to write,

I sometimes lose my mind.

No, I am not perfect,

But I'm perfectly content.

Yes, I can see improvement.

Perhaps I should "grow up."

But despite my flaws,

Desipite them all,

I'm happy with who I'm not.