Clocked (Dear Façade of Perfection)

Dear façade of perfection,
How beautifully I wear your guise,
But beneath this pristine reflection,
Lies a soul ensnared, craving demise.
I'm the pristine student, they say,
Yet inside, a tempest fiercely roars,
A cacophony of darkness held at bay,
By the shackles of societal mores.
I long to shatter this pristine shell,
To revel in chaos, to embrace the night,
To bid farewell to this living hell,
And dance amidst the shadows, out of sight.
So here I stand, a paradox unveiled,
A new life dying within, a bird in flight,
In this dichotomy, my truth impaled,
A masterpiece of contradiction, stained by light.