A few poems

Perfection

I'm not perfect.
Don't expect me to bring good grades each and every time
I'm human,
I make mistakes.
I fail to do things.
But in this fucked up society,
This what everyone strive for,
Perfection .
I'm no perfection.
I'm simply human,
So deal with it society
And anyways you are more fucked up than I am.
Words hurt,
They cut deeper than expected
And this what broke my soul.
This what turned me to a people pleaser.
I strived for this so-called perfection.
But I only destroyed and burnt my soul to ashes by doing this.
Will I be fixed, will I ever live again?
Will this feeling of numbness and extreme pain ever leave me?