We our children of society,
and perfection must be key.
Laced with smiles but hidden with pain.

We are the children of society,
chained like puppet string and hanging from a thread.
Can we mend the scars but create others on theirs?

We are not great, although we are forced to match perfection,
separated by meaningless sections.
Who has the perfect hair and who can breath my air?

It doesn't matter!
We should join together,
no matter the style we should go the mile,

Because WE are the children of society