We are small blobs of imperfections and
I don’t care what the world says
I see this beauty, I hear this beauty, and
I will fight for this beauty
That we call love
They will try to bring you down
But I will raise you up
We will eventually realize
That this is enough
I am me and I am hopeful
And I will sing a hymn to all the soulful
Poets out there whose hearts speak in broken lines
All the lost
All the forgotten
All the love in us which has faded in time
Because the world keeps on shrinking
And our hearts keep on sinking
To what the naysayers say
That we gotta take all our metaphors and brokenness away
If we ever want to integrate in this society
And live happily, normally, as they see
And now we have forgotten how to truly live
Forgotten that it takes rising and falling to ever truly give
Our broken selves to the ones who need it the most
Which is in our own arms, how long has it shouted its throes
And now we need to tell the poet in us that we can try again
Write again, fight again, and be ourselves against the world
And someday soon, I know we will be heard
Cause although we are small blobs of imperfections
Perfection has always been a lie
We are who we are
And we can, and we will, write our own broken lines