She seems so perfect, like a barbie doll,
Long blonde hair, big blue eyes, everything a girl wants.
But no, she's not perfect, you see the outside,
Not what's on the inside, not what really matters.
On the inside, she's broken, but no one can tell,
She covers the pain with a smile, the bruises with some makeup,
Loads of sparkley bangles hang from her wrists to cover up the scars and the truth.
On the outside she smiles, laughs, dances and plays,
But no one knows what happens when she walks through that front door.
The screaming, the beating, the crying, the bleeding,
But you don't see that, you see what you want to, not whats real.
One day she had no time, no time to cover up the truth,
She walked down the hall flashing purple bruises, deep, bloody scars.
Everyone stared and gawked, what happened to her?
The answer is one word, life.
They look, they stared, they never knew the truth.
She wasn't perfect, she was anything but.
She had a broken life, a broken heart,
But still she covered it up and went on, just so she could be 'perfect'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem