Unrealistic Circumstances

Hey guys! here's a poem I made (duh...). It doesn't rhyme at all...feel free to tear it to shreds. Well, say some good things too

Unrealistic Circumstances

A red booth in a McDonalds
Its cushion was torn on the edges
Showing the white underneath
A girl sat on the booth
Her heart was torn at the edges
Nothing appeared underneath
Her true colors were still deep inside
The only thing visible was the paint
A masquerade
A man sat in the booth ahead
Staring intently at the plastic girl
Her eyes were different from the rest
They told a tale of
Hate
Fear
Anger
Loneliness
He wanted to help
He didn’t
Instead he went to the cashier
And told him about the cushion
To sew it back together
The one that showed the white
The one that showed the pain
He put his crumbs of food into the trash
And walked out of the restaurant
The girl was left
Sitting by herself
The millionth tear
Crept down her cheek
In pain
If only we were like torn cushions
Without the mask
Without the painted smile
Without the plastic covering
Maybe
Just maybe
Someone would come along and
Sew our heart back together

I quite liked this - don't worry about the lack of rhymes, a poem doesn't need to rhyme.

The lack of punctuation might hurt some people's fweelings. Personally, I didn't notice until I looked back for spelling errors, grammatical errors, lack of punctuation, etc, but that's mainly because when I see a line without anything on the end I automatically place a full stop there, unless it's obvious that it's continuing on to the next sentence.

Anyway, I'm at risk of ranting, so I'll stop talking about the punctuation now.

It's an interesting comparison, humans and cushions. It's probably very original, in fact. I make a point of not saying that anything original is bad (unless it's potentially harmful), so I like it. I'm not sure what to think about how you used colours, though - I don't think most people associate "white" with "pain". Perhaps it's a culturual difference, but from what I'm familiar with (western culture), white is usually a colour of purity, innocence, etc (there are a few exceptions, which might be relevant to this poem - anger and heat, for example).

Anyway, overall a very good poem!