Everything seems perfect from such great heights,
But while we were climbing from the ground,
they knew not of our fights.
They not of our battles,
They knew not of our wars,
They knew not of our struggles,
But quickly judged our scars.
Our lives can seem perfect from far away,
But the threads that made us into this fiber, are beyond decay.
We're not okay, this is humility at its best,
Because we cast all our woes unto the father, knowing he'll take care of the rest.
Internal battles,
Silent cries.
Bounds and shackles,
Scripted lies.
"Imperfections" we try to mask,
But portray the things that won't last.
The natural beauty of things we try to conceal,
But gratify everything society throws at us;
leaving us confused with what's truly real.

~Tremar Ivey~