What is the measurement of perfection,
That decides my worth?
In which social boxes do I have to fit,
To be valued on this earth?
What value will I receive,
With the perfect body I created?
And how can I keep that value,
When I am eventually outdated?
Which IQ level do I need to reach,
to finally be recognised?
And will the value of my unique talents,
be therefore compromised?
How much money do I need to possess,
Before I come to the conclusion,
That all this perfection,
Is just an illusion?
Why does my value lie in perfection,
That is so hard to obtain?
And why doesn’t it bring me happiness,
Instead of constant pain?
Who am I,
When I don’t fit in?
And start looking for my value,
Underneath my skin?
It is when I start to look,
At what my eyes can’t see.
That I hear the whisper of my heart,
Saying my value lies within me.
When I no longer search for my value,
In boxes of captivity.
I can let go of all my fear,
And live in total serenity.