I am not perfect…
Most days I really try to be the best man that I can.
And Other days…
I don’t try nor do I claim to be anything beyond what you see and a select few have the privilege of knowing.
My lessons were learned in pencil, and my mistakes made in pen just like yours.
I am a child of God, orphaned as a sacrifice for you…
So forgive me for acting out of frustration in search of my Father
We all have eyes that see out, but its a blessing to have eyes that see in.
Despite the similarities in the hue of our pupils,
Mine captures a slightly different image, framed by the steps behind me…
Illuminated by the steps I pray to take.
I am a work in progress, scaffolding still erected against my spiritual walls.
I am an interpretation, I am a representative,Ii am abstract art put here to fill the empty glasses you see though and drink from.
I am not perfect…
I wasn’t put here to be.
I am a teacher to my sons, I am a gauge of possibilities,
A farmer of “what-ifs” awaiting my harvest, hoping to sprout the answers of tomorrow.
I am not perfect…I am a ball of emotions wrapped in thick black skin, dipped in potential, peppered with personality and praised with promise.
I am not perfect…but I have been forgiven

By Jamel Holloman