Faults

Humans are full of faults
to a fault,
chasing the idea of perfection,
in itself a flaw;
When, inevitably, we do fall,
we have devised our means
to appease all,
such as test retakes
or apologies.

Apologies
are part of every preschool's teachings,
a way to pay back the wounded
and, in theory, show we care. 
Words dripping off the page
like honey,
seemingly see-through
but deceptively sticky,
Clinging to clichés,
all to show they find a fault
in the fault they committed, to a fault,
faulting another.

Now, I'm not saying we should abandon morals
for human society is built on our relationships,
and kindness, love, compassion is the way
to a stronger, brighter future.

I simply think it odd
that we find fault in everything we do—
we define our morals by our faults, 
and always search ourselves
for imperfections;

So next time you sit down with yourself
and have a decent conversation of your thoughts,
or look in the mirror, afraid of what you'll see,
remember not to fault yourself, for we,
accustomed to the fault-finding world we're in,
easily convince ourselves to see
ourselves as not meeting some standard, full of faults,
Remember that faults are only 
things that don't meet "standards" or "normal,"
those sets of rules and expectations 
we think are perfect (though nothing is so),
and these "faults" make us human, for if we were
all the same, nothing would ever happen.

No doubt I'll look back and fault myself for writing this,
a poem full of faults, as I will say;
Yet perhaps the faults that make it different
will make me look back and smile someday.