Light gives way to shadow
The shimmer on a pond at midnight
And how glassy the water's surface looks
But a stone across skips and ripples and the effect is lost
I do not fear that I am the water so much as the stone
Sinking to the bottom never to surface
I do not fear that I am imperfect
More that I am put on a pedestal so that my imperfections
seem all too brutal
And if I could summon tears for my losses
and for the world's misconceptions and skewed views
I would cry for all and my tears would fill an ocean
But for now this pond will have to do.
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