A tree, it calmly sat
Rooted to the ground
Slowly swaying in the wind
Flowers growing all around
A summer wind blew softly
Tossing dust and leaves
Caressing my skin gently
As if desiring to please
A flower, bent at the stem
Tries hard to stand tall
The summer wind now blows hard
But it's determined not to fall
Its errors make it unique
Being flawed makes life worth it
In this world striving for perfection
It's already perfect.
(if you rated this poem low, please leave a comment and let me know how i can improve it. thx)
