Superficial World
Backstage my sweat trickles down my cheek,
I've rehearsed many times, I'm ready.
The judges make sure that I'm perfect, on fleek,
I just need to keep calm and stay steady.
Life is an act, oh yes, systematic,
The judges' critique: "do this, do that."
Instead of viewing the good, they are just pragmatic
Wanting us to be perfect and flat.
With no vivid colors, with no driven motive, oh yes,
We are incarcerated in criticism and perfection.
In a world that we live in, we just need to impress,
But it's guiding us towards the wrong direction.
This poem is about:
Our world