Today

I realized that I only photograph what I know is real.

Looking back at my photos, I saw not a single one with a person.

I realized that I only write exactly what I feel.

Looking back at my poems, I saw not a single one that rhymed perfectly.



Poetry by Katherinee x
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Written on 2009-05-17 at 01:26

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Eli The PoetBay support member heart!
When we follow our instinct we are rarely percieved as perfect; even though we are as perfect as can be. I love this observation. Thanks for sharing it. ☆
2009-05-17