The Perfect Poem

"The Perfect Poem"

Flowing thoughts,

Rumbling through my brain,

As I process, ponder, wait, and decide.

Just as a brainstorm for the perfect poem,

It is only the beginning,

With opportunities galore.

Four years of life spent, savored, cherished,

Knowing it will soon come to a close.

Living day by day,

Life felt consistent, kind, difficult, and worthy.

This was the writing process,

The perfect poem spitting out its rhymes, synonyms, and similes.

The rough draft of a beautiful future,

Of time passing by,

Of the continuous thrive for what comes next,

Unaware of the ache ahead,

Unaware of the yearn for the once beginning,

Beginning four years of high school.

There were rewrites,

There were edits,

Yet there were lines capable of emotion, power, and grace.

Learning the writing style along the way,

Wishing to witness the perfect poem arrive,

Giving a signal, a wave, or a destiny,

Yet nothing.

Little did I know,

It is created,

Not given, asked for, or destined.

Lives are created in these four years of growth,

Mistakes, regrets, heartbreaks, and indecisiveness.

Yet there was also accuracy, happiness, love, and strength.

Continuing its growth,

The perfect poem bears stress,

As the final draft approaches.

This is where I paused,

Realizing all that we have done, accomplished, worked for, and earned.

This is the finale,

The climax,

The solution,

The finish line,

The end.

No poem can be perfect.

It is in growth,

The pursuit of life, love, and happiness,

Where it shall be perfectly imperfect…

Perfectly itself.