Perfection

How do you measure perfection? Is it something you can see? What do we have to compare it to? Nothing's perfect and never will be Perfection is in the eye of the beholder It's all just a matter of taste But still we're quick to drop labels Though our judgments be in haste When we say that someone is perfect Is to say that someone else has failed Why don't we reward on merit And not say perfect, but excelled Perfection is such a heavey burden For one to always achieve It simply means we tried our best Not what others perceive All of us will stand in Judgment For all the things we've done How many of us are found perfect? Well, my guess would be, none