Poetry

Imperfection

Jill L. Ware

Imperfect we were meant to be, so our flaws he could see.

Each of us made unique, so the Savior we would seek.

I have scars that will never heal, imperfect the make me feel.

No one notices nor cares, that someone’s mark my face bares.

These lesions I hide well, to look you cannot tell.

It’s no birth defect-I am not blemished, with me He is not finished.

Unknown's avatar

Published by Jill L. Ware

Hello! I am a lot of things. First and foremost, I am me. Like it or leave it I believe God made me just as I am. That I need to go through these trials and tribulation to become who it is I am meant to be. does it suck? yes it does. I have two sons and three granddaughter and one on the way. I've been diagnosed with bipolar and borderline personality disorder for several years. This is a way to let my words out, get them out of my head. You are not alone in your struggle with these diseases, it's exhausting trying to be normal. Or what we percieve as normal.

Leave a comment