These are quiet shards
calmly and cooly collected
no more shock
no reaction at all
another drink poured
by a steady hand
mastery in a sense
but no reward
perfection
is not lovable
what a stupid
thought that was
These are quiet shards
calmly and cooly collected
no more shock
no reaction at all
another drink poured
by a steady hand
mastery in a sense
but no reward
perfection
is not lovable
what a stupid
thought that was
I raise a glass to this
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cheers!
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Well, I must be lovable, as I have mastered imperfection! Your poems always display a steady hand and great control.
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Thanks! I am currently stuck on this idea of embracing imperfection, and maybe not being so cautious / careful
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And how do we quantify imperfection? How much, or what sort, is acceptable?
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Yup. And ditto, risk
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Cool. “…steady hand /mastery in a sense/ but no reward”.. love the thought evoked in those lines.. the alliteration in line two.. Oh let me stop .. I love the way you pen these words here.. Hats off
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Thanks, Pamela!
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Great stuff
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Thanks!
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Perfection is not lovable…Oh but sometimes imperfection is so perfect! What a lovely poem!
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thank you!
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good style
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Thanks!
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I’m becoming a fan at this point haha. I do enjoy the emotion that resonates from this one, I can relate to the defeated sense of regret, paired with the heartache. The speaker is taking a bitter spoon of life’s experiences as it is.
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Yup. Thanks for your kind words!
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