In Spite Of My Flaws

As I complained about myself,

The fact that I’m so flawed,

(My hair’s too thin, and I’m too fat.

Sometimes I’m such a fraud),

I happened to glance down to see

A new bloom on my rose,

It burst forth, yellow as the sun,

In just the perfect pose.

No lovelier a bloom, thought I,

For shade and symmetry

Had blossomed thus far on my rose.

At least none I could see.

And then I noticed one small flaw,

One petal bore a stain,

Most likely from to much time spent

Out in the spring time rain.

How could my rose bear such a flaw,

A flaw so plain to see,

And yet still seem so beautiful?

How could such a thing be?

I thought back on the many flaws

That caused me to feel blue,

And wondered if, in spite of them,

God thinks I’m lovely, too?