Beautiful Perfection

If you could see the tortured soul

Hidden beneath the shining skin.

If you could see the empty void

Just beneath the veil so thin.

If you could hear the screaming

Contained with the skull.

If you could hear the tears

Cried silently as the light begins to dull.

If you could touch the dust

Of the fragmented heart so near.

If you could touch the sadness

The darkness and the fear.

You would not laugh or bully.

You would not sneer and jest.

You would instead begin to question

Your idea of beautiful perfection.