FLAWS

I want to write things as if they were my last poems, final things in my brain, words keeping me sane like blood in veins.

These words seem like the only way out. I want my words to feel what I feel sometimes. Would these words be able to make anyone think of me?

Be kind, they said but aren't kind the ones who feel lost most of the time?. Be brave, they said but aren't brave the ones who feel weak when they are all alone?. Be bold, they said but aren't bold the ones who are considered wrong every time?. Be beautiful, they said...That's one thing I can't do. Beauty is deceiving, something non-existent; a made-up thing having boundaries, standards, and what's a thing having standards?.... Useless! Maybe that's why I can't feel it. Will they ever be able to accept me without being beautiful as they want me to be?

Does the moon ever think it's not as beautiful as Earth? Does the Earth ever get jealous of the sun's shining? Does the sun ever feel insecure about its shining? Do clouds ever feel so heavy? Do winds ever feel lost? Do trees ever get insecure of their old trunks? Does soil ever feel so dark or snow so white?

We are all pretty human beings; the saddest tragedy is that we are made to think otherwise by someone like us. Does that person ever look at his own flaws as he looks over the flaws of others?

Everyone in this world is flawed. A flawed telling a flawed about their flaws... What a waste! Why can't flaws be beautiful? Why can't flaws be appreciated? It's a world full of flaws after all.