I know i'm not perfect. I know Ive chose ignorance when I viewed outward harm and were not corrected by outward charm.
Reckless we are as child. Some grow twice maybe 3 times that into their old ages. Tho we pray that it milds, it's unfortunate we can't read unwritten pages.
Im grown now and known a long time how to treat with respect and be prudent in what I present, but why does it feel as if no one relates? Why can you not tell truths too like I would expect?
At least im honest in my depravity. Where as you just lie lie and lie, like practitioners of insanity!
.... But here I am satisfied with my honest imperfection, but aching over rejection from too much I mentioned again, again and again.....
I know ill never be perfect like the things most want to imitate, but when I finally try something different I think it'd be great.
-
Author:
Eldian_Devil137 (
Offline) - Published: January 23rd, 2026 00:23
- Comment from author about the poem: Idk I wrote this rn while a lil sad about life
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 11

Offline)
Comments1
The topic of truthfulness and to one's own self being true are explored in this poem on life. Nicely done
Thanks! Did the practitioners of insanity thing meant sense?
Cause of Einstein's definition of insanity.
I then say I do the same thing kinda in the next verse
You are most welcome
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.