Perfection Vs. Realization

Hidden behind my smiles,
And know it all style,
Is a path of secrets and scars,
That seems to go on for miles.

The wanted image of perfection,
Is an entity, I’ve always carried,
A mask that hid the real life story,
A facade that would surely pass inspection.

There’s never a hair out of place,
Or a task that would go incomplete,
Just my straight lined, always right impeccability,
The friend who seems to always share my space.

Each wound and tear show an insight,
Into the true life behind the mask,
Each memory filled with pain, desires, and wishes,
Those abstracted wantings that never came to light.

Yet there are those few scarce moments,
When I sometimes reveal the other half of me,
Being with creativity and passion,
Never having to hide its own atonement.

Someday I’ll let my hair go wild,
And not care what anyone believes,
I’ll drop all too well-known disguise,
Exposing the imperfections of my hidden inner child.

To many, perfection is a label,
But for my soul, it is a refuge,
An abstracted place to hide all truths,
A place to hide a being’s inner fables.

Holding flawlessness for all to see,
Can also bury the view of the broken heart,
That beats within my chest after all the faults,
Allowing the inner child to concave in and flee.

Though my shell shows an illusion of truth and lies,
The realization that the abstract right is nothing but a burden,
Can rest upon the soul and mind of the beholder,
And that not all of an individual is left to criticize.

Everyone becomes a contradiction,
Towards the meaning of being perfect within our world,
So there will be a time for me to let it all go,
And accept my true identity of imperfections.