Being human, you are not perfect.
Almost, but even you are slightly flawed.
I turn a blind eye to what I choose not to see.
It is only your perfection I applaud.

This is a foolish way for me to think.
I know you are just like anyone else.
Sometimes giving to others,
Sometimes keeping for yourself.

I really know you are like all of us.
Just a person trying to be.
We struggle, we fall, we get back up.
It’s only ourselves perfection won’t free.

Perched on a pedestal, up so high
You see where the rest of us have failed.
You are afraid to fail yourself.
But no one can live up to the you that you have put out there.

You have been a fool, a liar, your whole life a lie.
Will the real you ever step forward?
Is there a real you?
I doubt it. If there is no one, not you, not me, no one, could recognize it.

I am to the point of pitying you now.
What a waste of a life.
What a waste of all that you could have had.
All that you have every wanted. And you turned your back on it .... afraid.