Perfectly Imperfect

In a world where perfection's often prized,

There's a girl who's grown tired, realized.

The weight of expectations, a heavy load,

She longs to break free from that confining code.

Her heart's been a canvas, painted for the crowd,

But behind the façade, her spirit's been cowed.

She's danced to their tune, sung their sweet song,

But it's time for her to find where she truly belongs.

She's tired of seeking others' validation,

Yearning for her own self-realization.

No longer will she bend to their decree,

It's time for her true self to finally be free.

In her imperfections, she'll bloom and grow,

A wild, unique flower in a world of snow.

No more masks, no more charades,

She'll embrace herself in the sun and shades.

The girl who once strived to be what they'd prefer,

Now walks her path, confident and sure.

In her own skin, she's found her worth,

A testament to courage and self-rebirth.

She's a story of resilience, a lesson to learn,

In her authenticity, she'll fiercely discern.

No longer a puppet, no longer confined,

She's found her own rhythm, her true design.