I came across this poem this morning on one of the Facebook groups I belong to. It was written by a young man from British Columbia. His words inspired me, and he has given me permission to share here on my blog. I am honoured to share his words and his message of acceptance. ~Karen
Author: Brody Butts
I am not perfect
Some of my pages are torn
Some are soiled with ink
Some pages are worn and creased
Some are crisp and clean.
I am solitary
Some of my pages hold my secrets and thoughts
Others are meant to be read out loud
Hundred of pages and thousands of words
All contained in 1 book.
I am intelligent
Some sentences make sense right away
Others you need to read twice
And others you need to read between the lines
But to me, those are my favorite.
I am unique
My pages and chapters are written by me
My experiences are my own
I am my own editor, you can not change me
My ink is permanent and my spine is straight.
I am creative
My illustrations are different then you may think they should be
That’s because I see things differently.
I create from what I experience and see
And mold it into something I understand.
I am misjudged
I am judged by my cover not by my pages
I have a hard blank cover, not telling what’s inside
My pages are soft to the touch and full of wonder
If you take time to read me, you will see.