who told you your were perfect?
that to live up to some impossible standard, you have to suffer?
The crooked smile
the little wave of hair that catches the sun so fetchingly
the ache and groan, that lets the world know your alive
the tip tap of the cane on the sidewalk
the laugh that light up the room
the million watt smile
those aged eyes of wisdom
each and every one of us has our something
what are yours?