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Created on: July 26, 2011
Re-read the good book a dozen times
Mount the sermon and still you find
Each verse rehearsed within your mind
The words and verbs that make up lines
More or less, re-define, morality as pure as wine
Pressed and poured into skins with spigots fine
Still why am I so un-divine?
Perfection man can never boast?
Pictures framed and focused more than most
The best I’ve tried to be a host
To beauty, art, and holy ghosts
Ghostly fading, failing to impress
My self let a lone everyone else
Languages that I can speak
Symbols ancient Asian used to think
English or Mandarin orange deep
Still at night the light wont let me sleep
When will perfection perspire and from me seep?
Intentions, conventions and society
Contentious views of morality
Could it be that you are the same as me?
The line too fine to ever be
More or less than what you see
Morning mirrors moist reflections viewed
Stare compare aware of you to you
Or stop at all and simply do
Exactly what we ought to do
Or rather only what can be done;
Move with time old and young
Live our lives and stop seeing
Perfection seeking, freaking, nervous beings
For the greatest of us never once
Desired to be the greatest one
They lived and loved
Or loved and cried
Enchained in pain then naturally died
Each one of us just the same
Imperfect beings with different names
Imperfection perfectly pressed and engrained
More in some, less in few, less in me,
More in you?
So I guess what I am trying to say,
These words could be written a million ways
And I could sit a hundred days
Still the results resolved and received just the same
There is but One perfect in all
Gleaming, glowing above us all
A little bit within our soul
Mirror like, and bright when polished whole
Still perfect we can never be
For you’re a mirror just like me
Reflecting God and society
And when I look into your eyes
The face reflected is always mine
The light reflected as old as time
Sent from the sun illuminating minds.
Learn more about this author, Dylan Darroch.
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