The Imperfect Sonnet
The Imperfect Sonnet1 min 12.3K 1 min 12.3K
If only I was determined
Instead of doubt and uncertain,
If only I was persistent
Instead of quit and abandon.
They call me cute, I'm not sure why
For I am a stick, of hills and colors
They call me pretty, but iris lie
For they speak to my double knockers.
I am the bones running past flesh
I am the ripped wires 'pon my head,
My claws are the layers of string cheese
My chipped lips whisper chopped words.
Although, one's flaws and dismay
Is another man's strength and hooray.