The Need for Imperfection

An imperfect childhood shows many thruths
And most don't see value in such pain.
It can surely sit long, like for me, in some youths
But I know that rough seas can spell gain.

Even later in life, as we learn more with age
Events lead from one to the next camber.
And we might spend six years in a sweet golden cage
Where impurities grow worth like in amber.

Let's agree that there is no perfection in things.
Let's accept that it is out of reach.
But do know that the lower, the higher it swings
And that there's beauty in the fuzz of a peach.

Those beautiful hands with imperfect palms
Make me want to explore them the more.
That beautiful smile that imperfectly calms
Begs to follow "green" eyes to their core.

And that beautiful heart with that imperfect soul,
It draws me in closer to listen.
It fuels my dream of a meaningful role,
To witness what's dull once more glisten.

Why strive for something that couldn't get better?
Why taking a leap with no space to extend?
Every tree can tell that there is no bad weather
And high views can amaze just next to descent.

I say that nothing can grow on perfection
And most souls don't shine brightest in light.
We need the imperfect for us to take action.
We need to overcome to eventually take flight.

(There is no right reason for scolding your flaws,
Because every mess offers purpose as well.
But seeing you so frozen by your own crushing laws
Makes me wish you would let go of the fear that gnaws
And listen to a different story I would love to tell.)