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I sit alone, though people surround me,
Watching superficial people imitating one
Another, disguising what they really are.
These people are the illusion of perfection.

Outsiders deprived of esteem, are forced to
Wear masks. These masks create the perception
Of perfection.

Reality, where sorrow and suffering is invincible.
It is a place where fears feed on Insecurity.
The insecurity caused by the taunting of those superior.
Those who are superior are oblivious to reality.
Inside they are empty, unable to look themselves in the eye.

Perfection is the distortion created by those who cannot escape
The bitter taste of deceit that comforts their shallow minds.
I long to be different to escape from their blind confusion.
I'm losing myself in their hate