I am like you; I strive for kindness in a world obsessed with perfection. I heard that true beauty lies in the flaws that define who we are—I have heard, and I have learned. Yet, a question lingers in my mind: if my reflection were to reveal the depths of my soul, what would I truly see?
A rough diamond taking shape? Another caterpillar going through metamorphosis? The first draft of a poem waiting to be polished?

Nevertheless, the voices continue to sing,
"If you're not perfect, what's the point of your being?"