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	<title>The Pedestrian Poet &#187; wasted</title>
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	<description>Everyday a new poem, story, or photo telling the story of humanity</description>
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		<title>Perfection</title>
		<link>http://www.multer.com/people/monica/2009/perfection/</link>
		<comments>http://www.multer.com/people/monica/2009/perfection/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 22 Nov 2009 05:26:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>monica</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[perfection]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[wasted]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[youth]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Every second Youth wasted On planning Adulthood How your Life will End up And should Every second Of life Washed away Never to get back My house My career My husband And family Set in stone Finally I Reach my planned Life and happiness The perfect Husband Sits, reads the newspaper Drinks coffee He says [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="text-align: center;">Every second<br />
Youth wasted<br />
On planning<br />
Adulthood<br />
How your<br />
Life will<br />
End up<br />
And should<br />
Every second<br />
Of life<br />
Washed away<br />
Never to get back<br />
My house<br />
My career<br />
My husband<br />
And family<br />
Set in stone<br />
Finally I<br />
Reach my planned<br />
Life and happiness<br />
The perfect<br />
Husband<br />
Sits, reads the newspaper<br />
Drinks coffee<br />
He says<br />
He loves me<br />
The perfect<br />
Baby<br />
A little girl<br />
Sits in her high chair<br />
Angel with black hair<br />
Pale face<br />
Blue eyes<br />
The perfect<br />
Dog<br />
Never barks<br />
Nor bites<br />
The perfect<br />
House<br />
Just as I<br />
Had dreamed<br />
High ceilings<br />
In the rainy woods<br />
The perfect<br />
Job<br />
Writing and teaching<br />
Always published<br />
Students love me<br />
I am perfect<br />
My life complete<br />
Except I<br />
Had no childhood<br />
I wish I<br />
Had a perfect<br />
Childhood<br />
I am not<br />
Perfect<br />
My life is incomplete<br />
To live<br />
A perfect life<br />
I must<br />
Sacrifice<br />
Who I am<br />
I think to myself<br />
“This isn’t<br />
What I wanted”<br />
I don’t want<br />
To be<br />
Perfect<br />
“This isn’t<br />
What I wanted”<br />
I can’t<br />
Be perfect<br />
Because I am<br />
Unhappy<br />
I look<br />
At everything<br />
Just as I wanted<br />
Just as I planned<br />
Everything<br />
Planned out<br />
Perfect<br />
But now that<br />
I have it<br />
I don’t want it<br />
“This isn’t<br />
What I wanted”<br />
I planned<br />
So I could<br />
Be happy<br />
But now I have<br />
Lost everything<br />
That was really important<br />
Perfection<br />
Is a joke<br />
You can’t be<br />
Perfect<br />
Because to get<br />
Something<br />
You must give<br />
Something else up<br />
To be perfect<br />
Or happy<br />
You choose</p>
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