A poem is defined

by its inability

to find the perfect rhyme.

Like love, it's compromise,

and the original vision

is never obtained.

Precision is sacrificed

at the intersection

of imperfection and ideal,

where the ensuing collision

knocks our train of thought

clean off its wheels.

And all we can do

is sift through the wreckage

for fragments

of the flawless message

we once could feel.

But in essence,

the semblance is minimal;

a melody recalled,


of a song

once revealed.

An epiphany

sealed in a flaw...

View grahf's Full Portfolio