Imperfect

I looked my best
in my light pink blouse
Matched with tight black trousers
The eight inch pointed heel
gave a new look to my petite body

As I walked down the streets,
I saw glances of few strange people
Their faint whispers made me feel insecure
The devil in me appeared from no where
Avenging me for ignoring it previously

The confidence that I had before
Slipped in thin air
I was no more that girl
I wanted to be

Everything about me
was false impersonation
that I had created
In this ocean called society,
misfits like me have no life

Love and affection
 is long begone
Acceptance and forgiveness
are the words of past

Imperfection is looked down upon
Everyone wants to be
carbon copy of everyone else
Perfection in all things you do
is the key to success

What would be a world
without anyone soughting out artificiality?
How would it be if there was a rule
of originality ?
But that's just a wishful thinking

Until world drools over the perfectionism,
Imperfection and misfits like us
have to adjust being perfect.