Perfection doesn't always last.
We may wish it did,
but that's not how life works.
It's like a wick burning outside.
So luminescent,
so pure.
As life goes on,
the winds pick up,
unexpected changes occur.
Might go out,
might not.
Just Depends how strong it is.
We’ve been reading too many books
lately. Blatantly, not trying to create
recently. Evidently, we’ve been letting others
absurdly run the story of you and me
in trying to be, when we already are,
freely entrapped within our own systems,
circles, and propriety of competition amongst society.
You can blame society,
but it’s simply you and me
in relation.
You and me, and him and her and them and us.
We’re in this together, now.
Each infinitesimal drop of murky water,
forming, ostensibly, the flood. Not one splash feels
the responsibility,
consequently we blame, and
haughtily criticize, rationalizing it
in our minds.
Lazily, we evaluate others stories, finding frailties,
unaware of the intricately subtle reflection of our own
Imperfection.
-Ryan K. Fuller
The ignorance of the new race
would be hope for the old;
Though the souls of those who transferred
were rewritten and corrupted by the program,
some things always remain, as what perfection can be obtained
by a race that never was?
I wanted to be your angel
Your princess your own
image of perfection
But how I tried
You never liked me – your
own form of deflection
Bending me to your will
I would have done anything
to be perfect for you
But nothings perfect
You above all others
should know it’s true
~Chrystal
Written on
March 12, 2006