There once was a person, the epitome of perfection,
She was considered the highest quality selection.
In dignity and focus, she was clad,
Evident in her skirt patterned in plaid.
Stockings and hair bows and flawless skin,
She was pushed to do well by her friends and her kin.
School was one place that she only excelled,
By the promise of colleges, she was propelled.
Group projects and tasks she completed herself,
She insisted, to her group, that she needed no help.
Her words and her writing seemed silk in the air,
To cross her judgment, no being would dare.
Students in class would make demeaning declarations,
But really, the words were empty, all prevarications.
They all giggled with the rest but secretly wanted,
To be like her, she unknowingly daunted.
A book in her arm and papers in line,
All teachers knew that no one could outshine.
She had no time for friends or boys or herself,
She stayed preoccupied and with no one else.
Her head filled and coursed with top notch notions,
Organization skills and planners evaded commotions.
Despite her success, she didn't believe,
She thought she fell short of what she could achieve.
Others never failed to boast about her performance
She was not only perfection, but the epitome of conformance.
She knew she did well in everything she tried,
From brags and commends, she wished she could hide.
She was perfection and conformity, and that’s all she knew.
But she wanted to be a little wild too.