"Your rhythm is fine, poetic thought excellent,
whatever happened to your rhyming talent?
Imagery is out of the world, flow is fluent,
word order however, wrong message sent."
Trying to get the right focus, true perspective,
I inserted a few figures to be more effective,
made a few more changes in places respective.
A critic tells me it is still dismal, unproductive.
I wielded my pen like a sword this time.
Went on a rampage with words to rhyme,
missed on the rhythm verses don’t chime
In the end I pleaded with Muse sublime.
She patted me, looked at me in deep effect,
said, “It is ridiculous to want to be perfect.
For, if you are perfect you can’t ever reflect,
or strive to do better, and can never connect.”
Ever since those benign words did affect
I stopped feeling sad because "I'm Not Perfect"
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