We are people and people are imperfect.
We lie, we fool and we Cheat.
We are the ideal liars in practice.
And yet, we are the best upholders of virtue.
because we know that nobody can do it better than us.

We are people and people are imperfect.
For it is in the nature of human to err.
And in the nature of human to mend.
All of us break, all of us are remade, reinforced.
With every instance which shatters us, we emerge stronger.
Like the phoenix from its ashes.

We are people and people are beautiful.
With all our imperfections, we are but perfect.
We cry, we laugh, we trust, we cheat.
We fight, we make friends.
To live in a bit of all, is the essence of life.
And we are all but human, my lady, we are all but human.

-The Silent Poet