Beautifully, Wonderfully Right
Where trust and patience gently grow,
A patchwork of flaws that never hide—
But make us stronger, more whole, more so.
For love’s true form is not a perfect place—
It’s two imperfect souls that intertwine,
Holding on through every broken space,
Transforming weakness into something divine.
So cherish the flaws, the imperfections you see—
They are the threads that weave us tight,
In imperfect fit, we find our harmony,
A love that’s fierce, resilient, and right........................"
My heart, an empty canvas, found its match in yours,
A shattered, painted mosaic with a thousand fractured doors.
You never tried to smooth the edges, never hid the lines,
But traced a constellation through our two imperfect designs.
Like weathered books with pages worn, their corners bent with age,
We share the tales of triumph, and the storms that fed our rage.
You read the parts I tried to hide, the chapters steeped in shame,
Yet found a steady rhythm in our broken, beating frame.
We’re not a flawless diamond, cold and perfect in the light,
But two old stones worn gentle by an endless, flowing night.
We’re polished by the tears we’ve shed, the trials we have faced,
Our jagged imperfections are the bonds time can’t erase.
True love’s no perfect ballad, but a duet, raw and free,
Two imperfect voices weaving strange harmony.
Our cracks, like in a fragile vase, let starlight through the seams,
And turn the fractured edges into gold-stitched dreams.
So let us hold these scars we’ve earned, the maps of where we’ve been,
The proof of battles fought without, and victories won within.
In this patchwork of two souls, we’ve found our sacred place—
A home not built on perfect, but on steadfast, human grace.
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