You've been around so long by now.
The parts and sum have equaled out
to some beloved whole, or less
or more. You stand redeemed,
we guess. Your flaws are just.
A part of you. We know what comes
along with, too. And this effect
somewhere along the way becomes
a comforting, dependable relief
in life, and so you stay.
And so we say: three cheers
for you! Whose worst
we've long since learned
to miss, to duck, to dodge,
avoiding this. And scoop
your well-known goods
in bliss. It isn't
ignorance.
It's innocence
of some strange kind,
aligned and reconciled
to all the good of what
we know, and long-since
find.
We turn towards you the eyes
of partial blind - the wrong
so long-burned in it sticks,
persists in vision,
but dismissed.
You can do no wrong, miss.
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