My lady is not perfect
She has scars on her skin, she has storm in her heart, she has skeletons in her closet, she has dark rooms in her head.

She can't write a poem with perfect rhymes, sing in perfect tune, dance in perfect music, paint with perfect combination of colors.

But her heart is pure as a clear sea full of honesty and sincerity, her care is sweet as honey and sugar in a coffee.

And her love is like the love of the ocean to the sun, patient, true even though limited and miles sets them apart .

My woman is not perfect nor ideal one, but she's a stone that's rare to find and I love her more than everything.