In gardens where roses bloom bright and fair,
A soul wanders with a discontented stare,
Nothing but flaws in the beauty they see,
In a world of wonder, they\'re never quite free.
With furrowed brows and an ever-critical eye,
They peer at the petals and heave a sigh,
The colors are faded, the fragrance too faint,
Perfection\'s portrait they never cease to paint.
A sunset\'s glow or a nightingale\'s song,
To the critical mind, they all seem wrong,
A cloud in the sky or a note too flat,
Nothing\'s quite right, always something to combat.
The joy in the journey, the thrill in the chase,
Lost in the details, they can\'t embrace,
The pleasures in life, the simple delight,
Trapped in a tunnel, never seeing the light.
A feast for the senses, a bountiful spread,
Yet they pick and poke, their pleasure dead,
The spice too mild, the wine too sweet,
In their quest for fault, joy\'s taste they never meet.
What could have been, what should have been so,
They\'re chained by thoughts they\'ll never let go,
Missing the wonder, the love, and the grace,
In search of flaws, they forget life\'s embrace.
Let us learn from their sorrow, their never-ending plight,
To see the beauty, the charm, and the light,
For life\'s too short to nitpick and rue,
Embrace the imperfect, let joy shine through.
© Susie Stiles-Wolf