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
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