A twisted tale, an imperfect nightmare's home.
Unveiling the flaws that haunt our minds.

Imperfect nightmare, with jagged edges deep,
Unfolding visions that disturb our sleep.
Within its grasp, imperfections take flight.

Imperfections dance, a dissonant routine.
They mock perfection's illusory veil,
Revealing cracks where sanity may fail.

No facade to hide, no falsehoods to wear.
Imperfections, like scars upon the soul.

A broken mirror reflects a shattered self,
Imperfections magnified, whispers of stealth.
Embracing the fragments, a truth is found.

For in the imperfect, beauty may reside,
A kaleidoscope of colors, undenied.
Unveiling depths within the human race.

Imperfect nightmare, you teach us well,
For in imperfection, we find our way.

So let the nightmares dance with imperfection,
In the imperfect, we find strength and might,
A testament to the human spirit's light.

The imperfect nightmare, a gift it seems.
For within its grasp, we learn and grow,
Embracing our flaws, our true selves to show.

© Francisco Puentes