Not Perfect

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  • Not Perfect Is 4 Those Wh

    Poem Commentary

    this is a very personal poem it took me a long time to be able to open up and share this with my friends so now im sharein it with yu all..hope u enjoy it...It's amazing how lifes struggles can make u strong...God BLESS

    Not Perfect

     They say she's beautiful
    They say she's got talent
    They say" shoulda been named Angel" cause of her kindred spirit
    They say she's wonderful, kind hearted and very careing
    They love her, but what they don't know is she's
                                   NOT PERFECT

    What they don't know is as a lil girl her landlord
           use to touch her, and rub on her lil child hood body
    What they don't know is.. when she lost her virginity
      it was at school while being sexually assulted in the bath room
    and forced into a bath room stall...
    What they don't know is she's 
                                    NOT PERFECT

    They say she's a choir member with a spirit of leadership
    They say she loves teaching her sunday school class
    They say she loves helping in the baby nursery
    They know she's apart of the Family Peace Project 4 battered woman

     But what they don't know is her 2 yr old son
    is from a rap assult in Georgia ...
     What they don't know is ..she writes better than some professional poets
     But what they will never see is that she lives
    in fear ..she isn't Perfect like they think she is ...
       I'm not perfect

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    daniel081180 commented on Not Perfect

    12-28-2009

    to me you r perfect. just wish i had been there for u. makes me so mad that i wasnt. maybe things would have been different. either way i love u and will protect u to the end my love.
    Reply to Comment

    HiddenAngel

    12/28/2009

    im far from perfect...but in yur eyes if i make no mis-takes then so b it we can keep it that way i love u with all my heart witch u hold like a diamond found in a pot of gold yu are my treasure and i am yur gold...

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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