She’s perfect on the outside,
With her perfect shape,
With her perfect smile,
Her perfect eyes,
But who knew,
It only took a few words to break her completely apart.
She dropped and split,
But it wasn’t thick blood that spread on the floor,
It was her soul.
Her soul was black and crooked.
Different than it seemed before,
It was put together abnormally.
Suddenly, everyone started to fall.
Their souls flooding the floor.
I examined each person’s soul
Put together in the most crooked distinct way ever possible.
My eyes went back to her soul.
Her soul glowed,
And I saw her true self,
It had terrible things inside, some black,
Maybe she isn’t perfect.
I looked around me,
Maybe some things should be broken apart,
Maybe some shouldn’t,
I bent down and put her back together.
A net is a 2D shape that can be folded into a 3D shape. This poem is about how people can be as complex as a 3D shape, but can be broken apart to reveal the “net”.