In pursuit of a flawless dream,
We chase the stars, the moon’s soft gleam.
With every step, a perfect stride,
In shadows deep, our fears reside.

The mirror shows a face so bright,
Yet hides the cracks from sight’s delight.
We mold ourselves in sculptor’s clay,
Erasing flaws that lead astray.

Each stroke, each line, a careful plan,
To shape the perfect, faultless man.
Yet in the quest, we lose the grace,
Of simple joys, a warm embrace.

For in the end, perfection’s guise,
Is but a mask, a grand disguise.
True beauty lies in hearts unchained,
In flaws, in love, where joy is gained.