Friday, October 1, 2010


Perfection's over-rated;
There's no way to improve
I couldn't imagine living
In such an awful groove.
But thinking of a perfect man,
Is quite another matter.
It conjures up loving thoughts;
My heart - it doesn't shatter.
At long last, I've met this man;
He's perfect, or so it seems.
Though he claims to have his faults
I believe he's from my dreams.
He holds my bags when shopping,
And waits patiently for me.
He rubs my aching shoulders,
Then sits me on his knee.
He wraps his arms around me,
When we go for walks at night.
He tells me that he loves me,
That everything's now right.
He looks into my troubled soul,
And watches when tears fall.
He doesn't judge for yesterday;
Instead, he hears me when I call.
He stares into my open eyes -Those windows to my soul.
He sees how much I love him;
It's then he becomes whole.

Written by Nadia Gopaul.

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