Time flew by but my life is stagnant,
Or is it moving backwards?
My time on earth is malignant
And every new year awkward.
I say to myself every hour of every day
Dear me, there are no true friends
One minute they like you, the next they don't
Tell me will the confusion ever end?
'No one is perfect. Perfect is overrated '
But yet every night I toss and turn and dream and hope and pray to be just like them, to be perfect.
To be friends with everyone
To be prim and proper
To be rich and famous
To have long black hair and pretty brown eyes and fair skin and yet...
Yet, as I listen to myself, I know it's impossible to be perfect.
No one can be perfect.