Imperfect

I am the crumbs left on a pristine plate

I am the crooked picture frame

That holds a smudged and ruined painting

Unbroken yet unblended, not quite flawless, not quite done

I am the coffee-stained cardigan, the pebble you trip over on the sidewalk

I am the tag on the back of your favorite shirt

The scratchy one that ruins your day

I am the wobbly table leg, I am the slightly charred toast

I am the missing slice of pie

I am the keys you’ll never find