Everybody makes

Mistakes.
Human nature; with all that
Failure.
Double takes. Second shots.
A glance or two
But I'm not sure where I'm heading
The impatience that grew within
You.

Oh How I'd find those scars,
Turn on the tap,
Let the water run,
Tell the child (it's okay!!) that wept
The child in me that seeks the sun,
That only comes out
When the scars are gone.
The water pours,
The scars heal,
A faint shade of red,
Like the sun; like it's all yours.

I found the error.
And now I know no terror!
I can make things right.
The sun smiles at me, so bright.
Yes you can.

But you there choose to
Ignore
The scars that run deep
And the bruises that grew
Sore.
You hated creases,
You hated crinking.
You seeked perfection without the art
Of perfecting.
And by default
You are are an art.
A masterpiece.
A reminder to me that your hunt for perfection at the least
Was imperfect.
Was just a gist.