Mr. Perfect


For centuries
The world lived under the assumption that nobody was perfect.
There were pretty people
There were gorgeous people
And even some beautifuls in there too
But even through all the sunshine hair and moonbeam smiles
The world had nothing perfect about it.

And then,
a mortal miracle happened,
and you,
not a god or a hero,
just a you,
was born.

And then there was light!

Suddenly the darkness left
When you emerged
And the world,
Or at least mine,
Has never been the same
since you arrived on the scene.
I am so insignificant
Just like you used to tell me
I am a tin can on the side of the road
And you’re the whole damn highway.
Maybe it’s just me who sees it,
But I,
Like you,
Believe that the earth became nothing
When you became a something.
I'm not talking about God here,
I'm talking about you,
The self-elected World's Most Perfect Guy.
Maybe that’s a bit brash,
But you believe it
And you’re Mr. Perfect,
So you can’t be wrong, right?

If we set you on a pedestal
So high the whole world could see
Society would flip in your direction
And would never return to its normal routes
Upon seeing your immaculate self.
Sounds exaggerated,
But you said it,
So it has to be true.

It’s been like this your whole life.
At school,
You got extra credit just for being you.
The only reason we learned the ABC’s was so we could learn to spell your name
And all the words that describe you,
Like poised,
Pretty fucking hot,
But never pretentious. EVER.
You’re the kind of pretty that’s hard to look at;
Hard to take all in at one glance.
Even mirrors have trouble glancing in your direction.
You were a teenage heartthrob
And as you walked through the halls
With your cloud-footed step
Boom, boom, BOOM as you walked past.
You are the King of Catcalls
The Duke of Double Takes
The Highest Head Turner
And you sit on a throne of hopeful eyes and devoted souls
Who would give anything to be yours
Because beauty like that
Does not go unnoticed.
Beauty like yours
is as rare as your bombastic self.
If butterflies saw you,
They’d retreat back to their cocoons in embarrassment.
If there were beauty pageants for men,
The judges wouldn’t even need to hear your answers to the question,
They’d just hand you the sash embroidered with the words “Mr. Everything All the Time Everywhere Ever.”
Forget sonnets,
If Shakespeare knew how your eyes shine,
There’d be entire plays in your honor,
Bill Gates wishes he could have invented you,
And I’m pretty sure that if they heard your voice,
Lennon and McCartney would change their minds
about all the people living life in peace
Because all the people would be willing to start wars over you-hoo-oooh,
And then The Fab Four
would get high off your scent
But even hippies couldn’t handle your trip, man.
If you were a drug
You’d run through everyone’s veins
Even the cops would be addicted
The world would be stoned
and if you were Medusa, everyone would be stone
‘Cause you’re Mr. Perfect,
And we can’t take our eyes off you.
If you were a virus
People would be thrilled to catch you
And never be cured
From your toxic soul,
But even if you’re the cause of cancer
The fact that you’re Perfect with a capital P evens it out,
So let’s build a church
To recognize your godliness.
We’ll paint your portrait on the pulpit
Preach passages from the Book of You
Raise kids to follow your quaint and questionable footsteps
There’d be no non-believers,
We’d all worship you,
even feminists would fall to their knees
Because if this world is a mountain
Then you are the peak
The highest high
The Emperor of Everything
Mr. Right
Mr. Everything All The Time Everywhere Ever
And if the universe is a river,
You are the current everyone should follow
Because you are Mr. Perfect
And just like you told me
You are never wrong
And we should raise a toast to you
Because you have Snow White status
Never mind your Poison Apple Heart,
Or the fact that you’ve got Harry Potter power
with Dark Lord dreams
The face of an angel
But you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing
Let’s raise a toast
To You and your perfection
and the way you break girls’ hearts.
We just wanted to live up to you
But obviously we’re worthless;
Silly us for believing it ever could have worked.

You're so vain,
You probably think this poem is about you.

So here's to you, O Brilliant Beam.
O Great Wise One,
The apple of everybody’s eye
You are the reason I’m insecure
You are the reason I live to forget
But hey, it’s fine.
You’re Mr. Perfect
And you can do no wrong.
Even when you’re in the business of Being A Terrible Thing
You’re just so fucking perfect
So bask in it


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