The Silent Sword
Shove away those thoughts impure,
Cast them far so they’re obscure.
Never let them hold your mind,
Else you’ll always be unsure.
Comparing yourself has not defined
Who you are and what you’ll find.
For every time you doubt your heart,
You’ll be taking steps while blind.
Before you say things and you start,
Allow me to whisper and impart
That you are not the sad reflection
In the mirror you broke apart.
I hope to cure you of self-deception,
So don’t look at your imperfections—
Look to me and my affection,
Look to me and my affection.
The Silent Sword's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Imperfections by The Silent Sword )
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Heather Burns
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)