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Ron Gavalik May 2017
‪I don't just love you;‬
I love your imperfections,
those hard memories
beneath kind eyes,
when I watch you
gaze out my window
every morning
Erin Nicole May 2017
It's quite interesting when you like someone, you start to notice everything about them seems more attractive when it seems normal to everyone else. Their smile seems so much brighter. The sound of their voice is more soothing. Their goofy laugh sounds much cuter. Every little thing about them just reels you in. It's like their imperfections don't seem bad at all. It's funny how our view of someone depends on how we feel about them.
Amanda Kay Burke May 2017
I am more than what the world sees,
More than just the sum of my parts,
I am composed of half-hearted dreams,
and built by misfired starts.

I am more than what you might hear,
If you listen close in the hall,
Rumours have teeth and words can bite,
But they dont really matter at all.

I am more than my mistakes,
More than choices I've made in the past,
The clock just threw on running shoes,
And thats why time flies by so fast.

I am more than imperfections,
Im worth more than all my flaws,
You can try and change the way i am,
But i wont put my life on pause.

I am more than a person,
Im someone worth fighting for,
Im everything I want to be,
I couldnt ask for more.
Kenya83 Mar 2017
Oozing charm and fluency, over exuberantly, without vanity or pride or an arrogance of mind
remaining humble and kind
looking just fine
Not with the fittest physic or perfect teeth, manicured hands drenched in gold leaf
Or a sharp suit and tie which underneath emptiness lies
But a beauty that shines bright like a beacon
signalling hardship, success, failure, determination
Strong and truthful
Unapologetically flawed
Lost youth and adult gains
Ageing memories and hunger pains
slight wrinkles, cheeks with dimples
passion,
it's quite simple
perfection is meaningless
It lacks personality and taste
Humility, humour and good grace
The hard times you stared point-blank in the face
However, on the other hand
It's like you're from another land
Im lost
In your perfect imperfections
Filters and airbrush aren't a true reflection
Of the life you've lived of the story you've told
When you've been weak when you've been bold
what made you happy or caused you stress
How you like to chill and rest
Or put your mind and body to the test
I want to see what makes you, you
I long to see it all
For its what makes you beautiful
Sally A Bayan Feb 2017
(Love poem # 1)
::::::::::::::::::::::::


I speak of them in hushed tones,
my feelings...my written thoughts....
they ought to resemble, exactly describe
what i've seen, or felt, and stored in my brain...
i draw lines, define the contours of your shadow
but, it's not easy to sketch a landscape
of your whole being.....
most times...words are not enough...

with eyes closed...i run my finger
on a blank sheet of paper,
outlining the shape of your face,
down to your neck, far as i remember...
.......................................i get lost,
distracted by your sweet, gentle imperfections...
i may tell of moles, birthmarks, or wrinkles
big or small scars...but, all these don't matter,
you might sing some songs off key, it's okay
for, i'd surely tremble , on hearing again
the high and low of your voice,
.........................God, there's music!
i hear tunes...as soon as you speak
your heart, must be beating with a lilt...

my muse waves at me, as
bolts of inspiration gracefully ebb and flow,
hand and pen quiver a bit, while writing
giving birth to emotions that, rise....and race,
one after the other....while moon, sun and rain,
provide phrases...to express my soul's delight...

on a high point,
i pirouette,
but, i am  careful,
not to lose
..........balance........
  ....or myself...



Sally

Copyright October 17, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
:::I aim to post a series of love poems
     this whole month of February. Happy,
     tearful, or funny ones...all about love.
     Let's all do. Happy Valentine's Day to all!
William A Poppen Nov 2016
Tell me am I love
or am I suffering
Am I stepping into the black
or into purity
So purity is white
and white is purity
Am I noticed for love
or projecting my suffering
hoping to be on stage
for all to see
Love is pure
Suffering is pure
Love is marred
as are flecks
pitting the whole
of suffering
*More of a stream of though rather than a poem
Amy Y Oct 2016
i am the white noise of cicadas chirping
air conditioning chugging, a train on a track
but i don't want to be the sheep you count
i want to be the rising sun, the lawnmower,
the screeching birds that tear at your sheets
yelling wake up, wake up
we're running out of time
Phim Aug 2016
When did it become instinct to **** in my stomach when I speak
As if my words were something that needed to be contained
And my body ashamed
When did I start believing that being curvaceous
Meant I couldn't be vivacious
That I needed to hide
And lose my pride
As if my weight defined
Who I could be
And my tummy would remind
That that everyone could see
My imperfections
These are my confessions
I am self aware
I care
About others judgements
And the way that I am perceived
So I try to make adjustments
Yet I never succeed
Yusof Asnan Aug 2016
She is flawed, yet she is kind.
She help others but she lies.
She is always ******* herself even when she always breaks.
That is what you might not see, and you
will not hear her asking for help.
You can feel that she is just not whole to begin with.

-HIY
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