A part of our experience is

You feel the most cynical eye

Talk too much

Their looks give a dreadful glance

The feeling burns

And it's as if

They always have a response

They're intoxicating with their loud silence

You try to drown them out and

Try to speak, try

To find ...something nearby

But you can't

But that feeling is not a warning

It’s a command

You feel desolate, dreadful, in danger

But It's part of the user

To hear their instrument's performance

Not someone's credit or their uncertainty

Our faults are what makes us human

And we paid no attention

But they are the colors others can't see

They are the experiences you learn

They are the makers of your world

You can go where you wanted to

As if fear 

has been far from your mind

The further you go the closer you are

To reach for that something

Your faults are beautiful Covered in color

Filled with variety

Your faults

Go beyond the gods or celestial command

So, pay attention