Faults

She looked in the water, like a clear mirror,

Brave; ’cause she had nothing to fear,

But then, she discovered faults in herself,

Restless, until,

One fine sunny day in April,

She looked once again at herself in the brook,

And swore that this would well be her last look,

But curiosity had its wonderful effect,

And made her look again and again,

To trace any signs of improvement,

It gradually relieved her pain,

And then she strove, decided to be perfect,

Worked upon every mistake using her intellect,

And then at last, what joy it gave her,

And then all at once, in a spur,

She saw that none could be perfect, but still,

It’s always better to work until,

Your soul looks and is as close to you as a twin,

You may not be perfect, but its possible to win.

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