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Suitcase Full of Me
January 25, 2009
I carry unfortunate perfectionism,
obliged to shake my head with violence
like an Etch-A-Sketch.
Wishing every flaw to disintegrate.
I carry the dreams of a Nobel Prize winner,
a vision of peace and positives,
the key to true success.
I carry an undying love,
his glory praised
through unworthy mouths.
Bright Sundays to Wacky Wednesday.
I carry the scarce suitcase of me.
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JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 2 comments.
mandygale77 said...
on Oct. 9 2009 at 1:29 pm
I like that...it does describe a little the perfectionism...
Perfectionist47 said...
on Feb. 8 2009 at 11:29 pm
Oh my gosh... This poem is what I am. I really understand what you're talking about. Keep writing!
