:- drowning in an imperfection world

Imperfection
by Melvin (the persona)

I'm constantly protesting that inner beauty is a plain lie,
because its hard to keep my spirit from breaking every time I cry-
and b R e A k down completely (inside).
Every time we c r e a k beneath the pressure of,
insecurity,
we lose all sense of inner beauty.
Maybe we just need to remember what it was like before the superficial masked our
hearts in stone.
I'm so lost right now that my reflection is unknown.
So I stare trying to remember how beautiful I felt when I was younger.
Before we were all clones.

Youth - that's beautiful.
Unspoiled innocence.

The child, before he grew up,
into a f r a c t u re d (shell)...
wrapped in an artifical blanket of self hate- self fabricated.
For no reason except...
media influence,
peer pressure for perfection,
and a cult of gloosy, paper cut out, models.
Stick figurines posing as supernatural beings and gods in the eyes of children,
lacking the strength to stand up and be at ease with who they are.
The child wearing an infectious smile and sparkle in her eye-
the kind that lip gloss, built of adonis and eye shimmer could never imitate.
He's beautiful,
on the outside because it comes from within and then he
f a d e s a w a y ______ before my eyes.
And I feel like a f
a
l
l
e
n
angel,
I use to be so special and now every time I try to fly I fall to pieces in the sky.

I know in my heart,my inner beauty... is the smile,
the one that graces, only, my face,
that reaches my eyes and radiates from inside.
That's beautiful.

My inner beauty may be ugly to the rest of the world,
and when that doesn't make me cry,
that's beautiful.

Imperfections make us beautiful,
Without them we'd all be the same,
vain,
superficial and lifeless.
That's me,
that's the me after I let go and forgot the beauty of my imperfections.

Still I'm just another disposable cliché.
There's nothing I can say that hasn't been said before.
I'm the adolescent (at least for now) with overused metaphors and over expressed expressions.
I'm not the only one,
drowning in imperfection.

This poem was composed, when the persona felt the need to address that imperfection is considered as an identity to each individual in the society, on Sept, 16th, 2006.