What is perfect I ask myself is it having tons of freinds, being popular, being smart, pretty, or well known?
I am not perfect then if those are true because I don't have tons of friends, I'm not popular, I'm not the smartest, and I'm unknown to the world, I'm not the most gorgeous.
To me I know I'm not perfect, so I say I'm pretty when I know I'm not beautiful, I'm known when I'm not, I'm smart when I'm confused, and my friends I say I have to many when all I have is one
This world has no perfect there is no such thing we are all different but yet we pick on those who are different than you. Why?
Because you or they whom ever say they are perfect you are to different from me to know me, yet I'm popular so why not have a nonperfect know me
Inside what we feel is the same, but we feel in different ways nothing is perfect not a thing you may think you are or he is or she is but they have the same problems in life as you in different ways.
So when I ask myself what is perfect, I say there's no such thing
No such thing....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem