Imperfect.

Made for errors, 
Entrapped in our mistakes,
Surrounded by terrors,
In this life, I do par take. 

Want to be freed, 
Sick of being controlled,
By this beast inside of me,
It's starting to take its toll. 

Engulfed by negativity,
Silenced by truth,
Held in this captivity,
Mocked by the ones of mental youth. 

Gone, you could imply,
As in,
I'm sick of these lies,
Told, again and again. 

All have misapprehended some,
Wanting to be forgiven,
Their only fault is they run,
Always reliving. 

Sick of being hurt,
Only bringing it upon yourself,
Thrown down in the dirt,
The ones you loved are now your hell. 

Wanting love, of course,
It's only natural,
Feeling no remorse,
For your own disasters. 

Walking around others,
Prejudging the imperfections,
Although, they all have their own covers,
Trapped in their infections. 

Trying to be what you want,
Just won't work,
I'll find you to haunt,
Remember, I'm imperfect.