I Make Flawless Fit Me

Perfection isn’t beauty, its like chains.

It holds people down, and attacks their brains.

They strive for the impossible, because it’s all they know.

So they climb the ladder they think is success,

But all they find is empty happiness.

Being perfect is pretty hard to do.

Knowing myself, that’s like cramming my foot into a smaller size shoe.

Why should I live up to the standards people place on me?

That life sounds more like jail than being free.

Trying to be flawless is an impossible task,

But, making flawless fit me, now that’s not too much to ask.

Bad hair days and no make-up won’t be a problem,

It keeps me away from the everyday boredom,

Of watching identical copies walking around,

Judging everyone and bringing people down.

Magazines tell us to be ourselves, but judge us when we are.

Girls are afraid to express themselves, because they don’t want any scars.

But, making flawless fit me isn’t that difficult.

I just keep doing what I’m doing, and not to be critical,

Of what I look like, and what I do,

Because honestly who ever knew,

That being yourself is the best feeling in the world.

The value of worth people place on me doesn’t change who I am.

It makes me want to work harder, strive higher, and run the full mile.

To show those people they aren’t the boss of me,

They can’t tell me who I should be.

Conforming to them is losing myself,

And that’s a risk I’m going to leave on the shelf.

I refuse to conform to the views of perfection,

And ill make my own, thank you, I have no objection,

Of saying imperfect is perfect and bruises are flawless,

I want to embrace myself not be cautions.

Being myself and accepting me for who I am is the key.

It’s the only reason why I’m happy, being me.