The Perfectionist
She had a day – a week – a year … oh heck, lets say a “life”,
That made her question all the things that led to so much strife;
Now some may say she had it all, from outside, looking in,
But something kept eluding her … it came from deep within.
No chance to sit and catch her breath, no time to stop and think,
As pressure mounted endlessly, and took her to the brink;
While others gazed in wonderment at what she had achieved,
She dwelled in sheer unhappiness, not many could conceive.
No one had seen it coming, least of all, the girl herself,
She smiled and told her stories, placed her life upon the shelf;
They thought they knew her inside out, an open book, they’d say,
And placed her on a pedestal, assumed she’d never stray.
She played the game, she wore the smile as expectations rose,
It wasn’t long before her strong enamel decomposed;
The sleek protective barrier she wore from day to day,
Began to just unravel, much to everyone’s dismay.
An overwhelming emptiness took hold a final time,
And drew her to the depths of hell that surfaced in her mind;
The statue they had watched for years, began to fall apart,
It crumbled all about the base, exposed her broken heart.
Emerging from the crumbled stone, she took a pensive step,
And fell to earth in mortal realm, as others watched and wept;
She lay amongst the rubble, tried to focus on the crowd,
Who gathered all around to see the spectacle they found.
They whispered of the travesty – they pointed, gawked and stared,
At who they saw before them, flesh and bone, the statue bared;
They leaned to touch the warmth of her, amazed at what they saw,
No longer on the pedestal, they looked at her in awe.
She found her voice and meekly cried, “I’m human, can’t you see?”
“I make mistakes like all of you, why can’t you set me free?”
A hush grew all around her then they turned and walked away,
Their disillusion evident, in what they saw portrayed.
Alone, she rose on shaky ground, the pretence finally lost,
She gathered all her strength and measured in her mind, the cost;
The never-ending battleground she’d built upon each day,
Were goals no human could achieve, and yet, she’d led the way.
She built that base she’d climbed upon, they only followed through,
Expecting of her what she asked herself to simply do;
What kept her on that pedestal was not a fault of theirs,
It was the expectations “she’d” created through the years.
She did not need forgiveness from the crowd that watched her fall,
She needed to forgive “herself” … she’s human … after all.