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Miss. Perfect

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They want your hair
they just need your eyes,
they want your courage,
but it's all a disguise,

They envy your position
as Miss. Teen U.S.A,
They wish they were in your
just for a day,

But the thick layer of makeup
and fake spray tan,
Is just a cover-up to hide your fears,
It's a painted fake to push away your tears,

They call you Miss. Perfect
because on the outside you are,
but the inside is a mess of bruises and scars,

You are filled with anger and hate,
but you look flawless, like a perfect date,

The people are blind they cannot see,
That you are not perfect no one can be.





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