The Perfect Child (Arrangement I)

Read the room, soften your face, never show what happens here. Make the picture look complete; make the tension disappear. Keep it clean, keep the smile, keep the questions out of sight. Learn to carry grown-up weather like a child can make it right. If the room turned cold, adjust. If the anger rose, retreat. If approval changed its terms, work harder for a little peace. You were never hard to love. You were trained to earn the air. Made responsible for feelings that were never yours to bear. Every harsh correction carved another silent rule: Be impressive, be agreeable, never make the image cruel. But a child is not a trophy for an adult to display. And love that needs perfection is control dressed up as praise. There she stands behind the mask, Proverbs painted line by line. Law of kindness in the light, private pressure close behind. Perfect woman, perfect home, perfect story neatly spun. Then the door closed on the image, and the criticism came. You did not want their whole truth; you wanted proof the mask was true. Wanted children shaped like mirrors, only showing back to you. Their sorrow was disruption. Their boundaries were disrespect. Their memories became problems when they challenged the effect. So they learned to hide the pieces that might cost them your embrace. Learned that honesty was dangerous if honesty cracked the face. That is not a higher standard. That is childhood made to serve. They were daughters, not reflections. They deserved to just be heard. The perfect child Was never what they owed you. Never born to hold your image Or become the mask you chose. The perfect child Is a lie that feeds on fear. When love demands perfection, The child has to disappear. Perfect smile. Perfect pose. Hide the truth nobody knows. Perfect words. Perfect frame. Make the children guard your name. But the mask cannot mother. And an image cannot care. You made them chase perfection While love should have met them there. Father, forgive me For the moments I called compliance peace. For every burden I did not see And every wound I failed to reach. Teach my daughters they were worthy Before performance, praise, or proof. They never owed us perfect. We always owed them truth. Let them bring their whole hearts home— Every question, scar, and tear. Let no love I offer now Require them to disappear. The perfect child Was never what they owed us. Never born to hold our image Or become the mask we chose. The perfect child Was a lie that fed on fear. Now love will make room for them. They will not disappear. Take off the mask. Let the false image fall. God never asked for perfect children. He asked us to love them all.