• A perfect small town, filled with small lives,
    Blue-collared husbands, work-a-holic wives,
    Here all seem happy, smiling on the street,
    Their eyes seem jaded, in spite faces sweet.
    The kids play in grounds, right beside the school,
    But nothing is real, they follow every rule.
    Here perfect students doom themselves to grow
    Like small flawless flowers in a neat little row.
    They know not to worry;they'll ne'er know fear,
    They'll always be smiling, year after year;
    Though smiling its evident in laughter they lack:
    Their perfect show has made joy turn its back.
    Happiness is fleeting in this small town;
    Perfection it seems makes happiness drown.