Mr. Perfect

For centuries The world lived under the assumption that nobody was perfect. There were pretty people There were gorgeous people And even some beautifuls in there too But even through all the sunshine hair and moonbeam smiles The world had nothing perfect about it. And then, a mortal miracle happened, and you, not a god or a hero, just a you, was born. And then there was light! Suddenly the darkness left When you emerged And the world, Or at least mine, Has never been the same since you arrived on the scene. I am so insignificant Just like you used to tell me I am a tin can on the side of the road And you’re the whole damn highway. Maybe it’s just me who sees it, But I, Like you, Believe that the earth became nothing When you became a something. I'm not talking about God here, I'm talking about you, The self-elected World's Most Perfect Guy. Maybe that’s a bit brash, But you believe it And you’re Mr. Perfect, So you can’t be wrong, right? If we set you on a pedestal So high the whole world could see Society would flip in your direction And would never return to its normal routes Upon seeing your immaculate self. Sounds exaggerated, But you said it, So it has to be true. It’s been like this your whole life. At school, You got extra credit just for being you. The only reason we learned the ABC’s was so we could learn to spell your name And all the words that describe you, Like poised, Pristine, Pretty fucking hot, But never pretentious. EVER. You’re the kind of pretty that’s hard to look at; Hard to take all in at one glance. Even mirrors have trouble glancing in your direction. You were a teenage heartthrob And as you walked through the halls With your cloud-footed step All Of Our Hearts Throbbed. Boom, boom, BOOM as you walked past. You are the King of Catcalls The Duke of Double Takes The Highest Head Turner And you sit on a throne of hopeful eyes and devoted souls Who would give anything to be yours Because beauty like that Does not go unnoticed. Beauty like yours is as rare as your bombastic self. If butterflies saw you, They’d retreat back to their cocoons in embarrassment. If there were beauty pageants for men, The judges wouldn’t even need to hear your answers to the question, They’d just hand you the sash embroidered with the words “Mr. Everything All the Time Everywhere Ever.” Forget sonnets, If Shakespeare knew how your eyes shine, There’d be entire plays in your honor, Bill Gates wishes he could have invented you, And I’m pretty sure that if they heard your voice, Lennon and McCartney would change their minds about all the people living life in peace Because all the people would be willing to start wars over you-hoo-oooh, And then The Fab Four would get high off your scent But even hippies couldn’t handle your trip, man. If you were a drug You’d run through everyone’s veins Even the cops would be addicted The world would be stoned and if you were Medusa, everyone would be stone ‘Cause you’re Mr. Perfect, And we can’t take our eyes off you. If you were a virus People would be thrilled to catch you And never be cured From your toxic soul, But even if you’re the cause of cancer The fact that you’re Perfect with a capital P evens it out, So let’s build a church To recognize your godliness. We’ll paint your portrait on the pulpit Preach passages from the Book of You Raise kids to follow your quaint and questionable footsteps There’d be no non-believers, We’d all worship you, even feminists would fall to their knees Because if this world is a mountain Then you are the peak The highest high The Emperor of Everything Mr. Right Mr. Everything All The Time Everywhere Ever And if the universe is a river, You are the current everyone should follow Because you are Mr. Perfect And just like you told me You are never wrong And we should raise a toast to you Because you have Snow White status Never mind your Poison Apple Heart, Or the fact that you’ve got Harry Potter power with Dark Lord dreams The face of an angel But you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing Let’s raise a toast To You and your perfection and the way you break girls’ hearts. We just wanted to live up to you But obviously we’re worthless; Silly us for believing it ever could have worked. You're so vain, You probably think this poem is about you. So here's to you, O Brilliant Beam. O Great Wise One, The apple of everybody’s eye You are the reason I’m insecure You are the reason I live to forget But hey, it’s fine. You’re Mr. Perfect And you can do no wrong. Even when you’re in the business of Being A Terrible Thing You’re just so fucking perfect So bask in it And I Will Drink To That.