The curse
Of worrying about typos
Strikes a certain sort
Perhaps a little perfectionist
Perhaps a little worried about approval
Perhaps a lot concerned with being something
Or even
Somebody
All of which
Removed in the face of
A mistake in grammar
Or spelling
At least according to the old saw
That you are what you say, in what order, and with what quality
Or maybe no one actually says that
And I should just chill about
This whole perfection
Thing
And just write
And say
And sing
In whichever key seems right
And instead
Of replaying the tune
Think of the making as a one-time concert
So it shall be
With writing
So listen to this concert only once
And be on the side of the performer
And forgive me my mistakes
I'll forgive me too
Roman Ryan 