on one side there is perfection
exact circles
detailed instructions
the suns warming beams lighting up the place
not a lie or screw up in sight

on the other side there is wrongness
defective sites
jagged lines
the darkness overcoming everything
shading the room in monochrome

in the middle there is a bridge of concrete
cracks line this bridge, they're
mistakes
damage
flawed
but lining the cracks
are blossoms anew
little daisies
growing toward the sun
but also finding the comfort of shade on hot days

balance

peace

making due with the fact
that nothing is perfect
and beautiful things can grow
from the most dark and deep wounds

a/n: hi guys. This is a poem that I wrote after talking to my friend Crista. I had this...vision in my mind, clear as day, of this poem and I don't think I conveyed it as well as I wanted to, but alas, *sighs* what shall I do?

Also, I am considering entering this book in the wattys but don't know where to finish it. If you have any suggestions of when/how to finish this book, feel free to message me or comment here.

Thank you so much for reading this far and I hope you enjoy! :)