Saturday, September 8, 2012

I'm Organic, Not Perfect

In the produce department,
A perfect apple caught my eye,
No blemishes, nothing amiss,
I thought, “Pesticides! Oh, my!”

Around the corner in another bin,
Organic apples awaited hugs,
They were far from perfect,
They’d been chewed on by bugs,

What a difference between the two,
The beautiful shiny outside shell,
Or one blemished just like me,
One that I understood, oh, too well,

My skin doesn’t have to please anyone,
I have become organic but not good,
I’m filled with unique qualities all my own,
My faults don’t have to be understood,

And the real me is worthy and valuable,
Not like the apple that learned to pretend,
Shiny and perfect, lying in the next bin,
Attracting those who didn’t look within,

No poisons were needed in my life,
I’m organic as anyone can see,
No artificial coatings protect me,
I’m just happy learning to be me.


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