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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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

Perfectionist47 said...
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!
 
mandygale77 replied...
Oct. 9, 2009 at 1:29 pm
I like that...it does describe a little the perfectionism...
 
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