Perfection

If I asked you to care, would you?

If I told you to look, would you see?

The blind innocence of a fighting spirit,

The hopeful smile masking a hopeless future,

The outward joy of an inner peace.

In lack and filth, troubles and disdain,

Proudly owning it, she's wealthy,

Comfortable in the weather-beaten shack,

Momentarily forgotten by the obese lifestyle of wants,

Towering intimidatingly over home sweet home.

And in the bold wake of the full moon

She sings her troubles to sleep.

Resulting from her lack of wants,

Are the scars of imperfection,

Overshadowed by a heart so pure,

Perfected by the abundance of the needful.

If I asked you to care, would you?

If I told you to look, would you see?

For in having all that is necessary,

There lies beautiful perfection.