The “Perfect” me, A pretty whole, Yet a broken soul.
The “Perfect” me, A pretty whole, Yet a broken soul.  facing reality stories
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a_wanshi
a_wanshi Fiction made me smile more than reality.
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
The reality of imaginary perfection is often false, the real perfect beauty is the motive of this poem.

The “Perfect” me, A pretty whole, Yet a broken soul.

I envy you, shining like crystal, sitting like a dew,

But I have scars, a few.

I want to be like you, bold and true,

But I am often scared, fear is always new.

You stand straight, the picture-perfect view.

Alas, no one can see the marks, not even you.

You never get nervous to make something right,

Don't you see my anxiety is eating me up alive?

Oh! You speak un true, you seem so bright, so untouchable, like the sun and the moon,

The moon has scars too, being alive is a constant burn like the sun, it is a curse, not a boon.

I don't believe you, you smile so bright like a star, maybe you are being vague,

The unshed tears whisper the real story, cause the smiles are all fake.

But to me you look so full such a pretty perfect whole,

Maybe, but I can't deny the weight of my broken soul.

-A. Wanshi.

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