I believe that
What you give around,
That little smile, when your heart would pound,
That needful advice, desperately profound,
That handshake, when you were second, with the one crowned,
Doesn’t always come back, and gets lost in the town.
Sometimes, it needs to be found.
I believe that
The effort doesn’t make you the achiever.
The load doesn’t make you a griever
Because millions have gone through the fever.
The effort and load arm also balance the lever.
The arm that goes around the shoulders of a deceiver,
The arm that supports the believer,
The arm that makes someone else a beaver,
Sometimes, also makes, for humanity, a weaver.
I believe that
All that glitters is not gold.
That your future cannot replace the old,
That someone beautiful is not always there to hold,
That a magnificent tale is not always told,
That there are some slips in the sculpture mould.
That snowflakes are not pretty when the child is cold.
Sometimes, the ugliest have the most magnificent to unfold.
I believe that
Imperfections define perfection.
Your mistakes define your attention.
Your thoughtfulness is defined by your hesitation.
Your desperate moves make your impression.
Your unintended gestures help the comprehension.
Sometimes, your errors make you human, and not a misconception.