Subscribe via RSS Feed Connect on Pinterest Connect on Google Plus

A Poem about Perfection – Or Rather, ‘The Death of It’

Filed in Housework Poetry, Life Poems by on April 30, 2009 0 Comments • views: 1967

A little humor about mom’s who are driven to live “the perfect life” – a life that doesn’t exist.  So this mom has decided to invite you to “the death of perfect”

Song Lyric Version

(VERSE 1)

Perfection hunters crowding the imperfect world

where the unmade bed has no right to enlist

where the cleanest flooring on earth exists

where the designer life

meets the designer child

who meet the designer parents

on a mission gone wild

where in depth parenting

means wiping surface clean

and tears of truth

are considered bold and obscene

(CHORUS)

I want to be flawed like never before

leave the dishes in the sink

and the clothes on the floor

shout I love you out loud

to my guy in the mall

embarrass myself

embarrass us all

dance in the street

and sing a song when I walk

and really don’t care how many jaws I make drop

cause I’m out of this rat race

I’ve taken my last breath

and my families invited

to this “Perfect Death”

(VERSE 2)

Yes, Yes, Yes,

I’m kissing perfect goodbye

no more impeccable life

from now on it’s “anti”

anti-work, anti-cleaning, anti-skinny ‘til I drop

I’ll be shovin’ in bon-bons ‘til I can’t talk

the Perfect trap snapped in half on me

and for the first time in my life

I’m a woman whose free

I’ll walk through my front door

rested and suntanned

put my coat on the floor

don’t care where it lands

tell the kids their grounded

if they cleaned their rooms

leave the bathroom door open

who cares about fumes!

(BRIDGE TO FINAL CHORUS)

Ok, Ok, Ok,

I’ve taken it too far

ixnay on the fumes

no stinkin’ allowed

but that’s where the line I draw stays

cause the Perfect life is one giant maze

where I’m always hitting the glass

so death by perfection no longer exists

I’ve killed every crazy mother’s to-do list

and buried them in the dirt

left the mud on my hands

threw out the frying pans

and ironed my favorite ripped shirt!

cause….

I want to be flawed like never before

leave the dishes in the sink

and the clothes on the floor

shout I love you out loud

to my guy in the mall

embarrass myself

embarrass us all

dance in the street

and sing a song when I walk

and really don’t care how many jaws I make drop

cause I’m out of this rat race

I’ve taken my last breath

and my families invited

to “Perfect’s Death”

come grab your seat

you’re in for treat

cause this is the only death I won’t cheat!

By Barbara Tremblay Cipak, Copyrighted

Please follow and like us:

Tags:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial