where the writers are
Perfection

No one can be perfect,

And that’s the only truth

Everyone has some bad in them,

Especially the youth.

On the outside they may look perfect,

But inside it’s not the same.

They won’t show you how they feel,

And they won’t show you their shame.

Most people just do the best they can,

And that makes them feel superb.

They know they will never be perfect,

Because perfection is absurd.

If they find perfection,

I’m sure they wouldn’t know.

It would be easy to miss;

I’m sure it wouldn’t show.

Even if perfection was found,

I’m sure no one would tell.

If it got out, what they had found,

Our world would turn to hell.