Masterpiece

Just something I jotted down while at work one day. I was in my feels. I posted this and then deleted it because I’m far from being a poet or anything so I’m embarrassed anytime I try to share something that resembles it. But I’m working on overcoming my fears, so here we go.

Love is patient, love is kind.

I try to be who love is

To be people who are hate

They are the complete opposite of love

for they are neither patient nor kind.

They make hasty judgments based on one flaw on my masterpiece.

BUT I am a masterpiece.

At least I feel that way

Despite of

I feel beautiful

and complex

Like architecture or fine art.

The stuff that may look a little funny or confusing at first

But if you stare at it long enough you’ll see the beauty in it.

Most people are masterpieces

Most, not all.

Some have no depth

Just one stroke of paint.

It may look complex and worthy at first

But when you keep staring, you realize there’s really nothing much to it

It’s just a brush stroke.

But I am no brush stroke.

I am a masterpiece.

Stare at me!

You’ll see

That I’m the most beautiful work of art you’ll meet.

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