Sometimes I’m so strong,
and sometimes, I’m so amiss,
but let me talk about
the weakness, let me talk
about how every scar
we carry from another
makes us stronger, doesn’t it?
Every injury to insult,
every failure, every fault,
wears like a badge earned,
and how never did we
ever say, that any of us
were perfect, in this skin
we call humanity we all must wear ,
in this temporary moment.
For are we not?
found lovely in our own way,
lovely in all of this;
our own imperfect glory – but true.

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