I am perfect.
Magnify times five and now I am late; occasionally.
To see me five times magnified you must be close to me.
Look even closer, maybe times ten and now I am late often with no repercussions.
Get used to looking at me so close you can’t recognize me any other way.
Always looking, always searching.
Trying in desperation to find the next chink in my golden armor of perfection.
The rest of the world is blinded by the golden light reflected.
But you see the darkness and the shadows.
The distortion created by an unpolished, imperfect reflection.
At times twenty you are only interested in detection.
I am no longer important.
The only thing that matters is the image I emit.
The golden armor that I wear and why you don’t have it.
Piece by piece you rip me apart; stripping my armor from me, thinking somehow you can wear it.
You try on the pieces, they don’t fit.
You try to bend them, they won’t yield.
Never once considering that is was mine, not your shield.
Never realizing I made it myself and if you want armor then you must sacrifice self.
Now I am exposed for who I am.
An imperfect junior Second Class doing the best he can.
Countless hours of creation dismantled in mere seconds when you turn up the magnification.
Now I am as you wished me to be.
Torn, defenseless, have you no clue?
Without my armor, how will I ever be able to defend you?