Please
You seem to notice a multitude of faults in me—
cracks in the porcelain, dust on the sill,
the tremor in my voice when I try to be
steady, the way I falter, the way I stand still.
You tally each misstep, each unspoken word,
the silence that pools where laughter should be,
the edges I’ve sharpened, the songs left unheard,
the version of me I was meant to be.
You trace the old scars with an auditor’s eye,
subtract warmth from my tone, divide every lie
from the truth I wear thin like a threadbare coat—
as if love were a ledger, and I were the note
too flat to be sung, too cracked to be whole,
too burdened by shadow to kindle a soul.
But what if I said those flaws you perceive
are not wounds I wear, but the paths I believe
led me here—to this moment, to standing before you,
not flawless, but forged, and forever made new?
For the cracks let in light, and the silence has taught
me the depth of true words, the wisdom of thought.
The tremor? That’s courage. The stillness? A storm
that refuses to break, that keeps me warm.
So yes, count the cracks, name every stain—
but know this, beloved: I am not to blame
for being a mirror that shows you your fears,
your own silent faults, your unshed tears.
And if you see only flaw, if you miss the grace
in the mended and marred, the time-worn face—
then perhaps it is not my brokenness you see,
but the parts of yourself you refuse to be.
Yet still, I remain—not fixed, not whole—
but fiercely, tenderly, tending my soul.
Not less for the fractures, not small for the scars:
I am mine. And I shine just the way that the stars
are not perfect, but blazing—imperfect, and free.
-
Author:
Friendship (
Offline) - Published: January 24th, 2026 08:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 30
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship, Tristan Robert Lange, Sakwa Franc, Paul Bell
Offline)
Comments6
A beautiful poem of who one perceives themselves to be. Nicely done Friendship
Soernbarrett, thank you for reading my poem. The poet is addressing someone who is constantly criticizing them!
You are most welcome Friendship
First off, hell yes on that image. I won't be unseeing that for a while! Love it! Dearest Friendship, this poem moves from being examined to standing sovereign. You acknowledge the fractures without surrendering to them, and by the end, the voice is self-owned and luminous. It’s not about perfection…it’s about presence, dignity, and choosing oneself anyway. A beautiful, brave piece. You shine bright, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️
Tristan, I appreciate you reading my poem, and most of all, I value your feedback. Did you ever have a friend who, whatever you do in life or say anything, will find fault in you? I always assumed this person was my best friend and a good friend, but I don't think he wants happiness for me. He's destroying my self-esteem, and I just couldn't take it anymore. As of last night, I wrote this poem to find out inwardly: How can I change? But it's not me who needs to change. I am who I am, and the sad part is, I don't think they accepted me for who I am.
Dearest Friendship, thank you for trusting me with that. What you’re describing is deeply painful, and you named it with clarity. Someone who constantly finds fault isn’t offering love or guidance…they’re eroding the ground you stand on. I\'ve experienced it more than I would like to admit. Your poem already answered the question you were asking yourself. It isn’t about changing who you are…it’s about refusing to keep shrinking for someone who can’t accept you whole. I am making the same decision myself. I am done erasing myself for the comfort of others. Sounds like you are too. You are allowed to protect your dignity, your joy, and your becoming. I’m really glad you're listening to yourself. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Good write F.
Thank you,orchidee.I appreciate your time to read my poem.
My "like " and "fav" to this poem . Great work dear poet
Thank you.Sakwa Franc.I appreciate your time to read my poem.
Always wonder if the ones judging others are perceiving their own flaws and failures.
Advice is always nice, and can be taken or not.
In the end the buck stops with the individual, and not everyone wants to climb Everest, some just want to be happy.
so well described - perfect despite the perceived imperfections...truly a work of art...
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