No perfect baby grows without some flaws.
A scrape reshapes a knee, a thorn a thumb,
a list too long to make of minor gnaws
ignores the small dissimilar from plumb.
No child escapes unneeded note of self.
A shadow dims the eyes, a frown the lips,
a sad collection filling hidden shelf
outwaits infrequent happiness eclipse.
No age will be of doubt completely free.
A silence wreaks the heart, a din the ear,
a havoc unforgettable debris
disrupts the help but not the hiding fear.
Misleading labels steer the not yet strong
into the greying strains of hopeless song.
You Will Rise Project 
beautiful… brings tears to my eyes