I Am Imperfect

People strive to be something different

Society wants you to be different

But in their own terms

They want you to have a thin waist,

A big butt,

Perfect boobs,

Flawless skin,

Flat stomach.

The list goes on and on.

But what am I?

I just sit in my room all day

Writing, drawing, creating, destroying

Is this who I am?

Or am I a girl

Just a girl

I'm blending in just like everyone

But I'm not

I turn my head to the comformists

But in reality I am in another group

Being different is all I want to be

Maybe that is who I am?

I am trying to be different

I am imperfect. 

This poem is about: 


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