I read a poem today about a person who was on the outside looking in. I felt that this is what everyone writes about. And they never look at the other way around. Perfect isn't so perfect, ya know…


Perfect Fences

There is white picket fence
And a long walkway
That leads to a large house
With small doors
So you can't get in
But the walls are made of glass

You look in
And in this house,
There is a family
A real one
With a mom and a dad
Two girls and a boy

And this family is perfect
They are happy
They love each other
And do things together
Like eat dinner
They tell each other everything

Well, almost.
You see, they all have their secrets.
And they guard them well
To keep up appearances
They had to be perfect
And always happy

The mother was prom queen
She was always the best
But she was never happy
She thought that maybe her fiancé wasn't the one
But she married him anyway
Because she was pregnant

The father in this story
Always loved his wife
He just loves sex more
He's had 68 sex partners in his life
His wife is only number 42
He is afraid to go to the doctor

The son and eldest child
Has always shown talent in sports
A super jock
But his strong, masculine arms
Doesn't enjoy the feel of a woman
As it does a man

The middle child and eldest daughter
Wants to be her mother
She wants to be the beauty queen
The prettiest, the skinniest
A size four
Got that way by throwing up

The youngest child, the baby in the set
Gets anything she wants – A spoiled brat
But what she wants the most
Is to not be her
She looks for an escape
And finds one in razor blades

This is the perfect family
Or you thought they were
You were on the outside looking in
But you never really saw
Now you know
The inside isn't all it's cracked up to be


Please review. Constructive critisism is the best kind. Tell me what you think. Thank You.