" We Are Not Perfect" - Bahamas AI Art
©A. Derek Catalano
We Are Not Perfect
The clay is soft beneath the thumb, the shape
We try to mold is prone to sudden flaws;
A slip of pressure, and the structure's gape
Reveals the break against perfection's laws.
We are not flawless, born of dust and fire,
A blueprint smudged, a work forever new;
We chase a distant, unobtainable spire,
And stumble on the things we meant to do.
The poor decision, cloaked in hurried grace,
The word too sharp that leaves a lasting sting,
The promise broken in a desolate place,
The empty feeling that the fault can bring.
We look upon the wreckage, small or vast,
Of choices made in shadow or in haste,
And count the costs that cling to us at last—
The golden minutes foolishly laid to waste.
The mirror shows the eyes that saw the chance
To take the easy road, the path of least
Resistance, caught within a restless trance,
A careless hunger on a mental feast.
We tell ourselves that this one time will pass,
That no one sees the corner that we cut,
But every misstep echoes in the glass,
A tiny seed of rot within the nut.
The mistake is a teacher, harsh and grim,
Whose lessons often come disguised as pain;
It dips us deep into the shadowed brim,
And washes clean the thought of self-disdain.
For shame’s a heavy cloak, and unforgiving,
It chains the feet and blinds the eager sight;
But holding fast to failures stops the living,
And keeps the soul from reaching for the light.
The road ahead is never truly straight,
It winds through valleys where the past resides,
A graveyard full of moments we berate,
Where self-recrimination often hides.
But standing in that ground will change no thing;
The only power lies within the now,
To listen to the better songs that sing,
To bind the future with a silent vow.
To take the lesson from the shattered piece,
To understand the nature of the fall;
To seek a quiet, well-earned inner peace,
And answer duty's ever-present call.
The next decision waits, a shining door,
No shadow of the one that came before;
It is a moment we can claim and own,
To plant a seed where only weeds have grown.
We rise, then, not with arrogance or pride,
But with the humble wisdom of the bruised;
With open hands, and nothing left to hide,
The former self completely unexcused.
To choose the hard, the right, the honest way,
To mend the fraying edges of the soul,
To greet the promise of the coming day,
And make the fractured spirit truly whole.
For striving to do better is the core
Of what it means to be a human being;
To learn from what we can’t undo, before
The final curtain drops, and we stop seeing.
The better choice is built from solid truth,
A cornerstone of character and grace;
It honors every hope of eager youth,
And makes the world a kinder, cleaner place.
Though we are not perfect, we are learning still,
And with each choice, we climb a higher hill.
©A. Derek Catalano/Gemini
