"Perfection." (My poem.)

I’ve come to terms
With the truth:
My New Year’s resolution
Will never occur-
I will never be perfect.

The Bible says
Present yourself an
Unashamed workman.
Well I am ashamed of my handiwork.
I try and tryTo avoid scarlet cheeks
And the constant paradeOf my foot to my mouth.
I wear rubber bands to remind me,
Tape to bind my mouth shut
But somehow, I always slip up.
Like today and the day before,
And the weekend before that.
I wish I was a little rabbit
Buried deep in a burrow.

But hiding away from life’s little slips,
Means never showing the effects of God’s greatest gifts-
Forgiveness and love,
Mercy and peace.

When He made me,
He knew what He created.
He created an imperfect (by my standards)
Girl, who speaks before she thinks,
And leaps before she looks.

And even though I often find myself
Tumbling down
Because of another mistake,
The best leap I ever made
Was the one straight into His arms.

That blind faith is
The only kind of perfection
He asks for and the only kind I’ll ever need.