Broken pieces left me to glue them back together
Uneven pieces left me to wonder who I really am
All that I knew became pieces of unknown origin
Not knowing left me in fear
Not knowing left me uneasy
The broken pieces cut me so deep
I just have no more tears to shed
Insecurity left me second guessing all my decisions
So Late in life to begin from the beginning
Where do I go?
How to begin ?
How can this happen ?
Yet, here I stand looking down at the mosaic pieces that
Reflects the image of me.
How did I get the strength ?
Here I stand before the Broken pieces that became
Imperfect but yet it created the strong woman that stands before you.
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Beautiful! I believe that without our imperfections perfection would not exist and is therefore perfect. The difficulties we endure and the scars we collect shape our identity and define our strengths like the marks from the chilsel on a sculpture by an artist. Your poem was inspiring lol
Aww Im glad I inspired you. And you are so right our imperfections is our perfection.. thank u so much