Beauty found in matchless form
When dancers train their grace
Can lack the ****** of inner storm
That moves men from their place
Instead it invites cool applause
From those who know us not
For never will it give them pause
To take in what we’ve taught
But those who waltz authentic stride,
Though lacking perfect frame,
Will aid their fellow men inside
To dance there none the same
While perfect steps may leave one awed,
They seldom birth a shift
But fear’s unspoken promenade
Will yield a matchless gift.
Jan 1
Jan 1, 2026 at 1:32 PM UTC
Beauty found in matchless form
When dancers train their grace
Can lack the ****** of inner storm
That moves men from their place
Instead it invites cool applause
From those who know us not
For never will it give them pause
To take in what we’ve taught
But those who waltz authentic stride,
Though lacking perfect frame,
Will aid their fellow men inside
To dance there none the same
While perfect steps may leave one awed,
They seldom birth a shift
But fear’s unspoken promenade
Will yield a matchless gift.
This poem is about letting go of perfectionism. A perfect person may look put-together, but may have no passion in what he or she does, a passion that tends to motivate change (stanza one). The benefit we get from perfectionism is only fleeting recognition ("cool applause") from people who aren't truly interested in us as people (stanza two). On the other hand, those who live by their convictions, apart from the act of people-pleasing, will teach others to do the same (stanza three). In the end, perfectionism does not change us, but responding bravely to our fear of rejection--by living by truth instead of by others' opinions--does (stanza four).