Simply 'Perfection' Poem by Moth Harris

Tranquil eyes stare bounce off the moonlight sky
Ablaze the dim morning sun has now died
In your quest for admiration you ask why
Through tainted teeth you had been told a lie

Lively words paint you the picture with a set motion brush
No rhyme can compare the misactions of dishonosty
No child should go on unpreached of opinion and fact
Perfection is only a lie to eager ears
Followed up with the fuel of ignorance
For the same man looking
Shall die with a blank stare
and no childish rhyme will be there