What is perfection anyway?
A pretty face?
Something that makes you sigh?
Or is it just a blatant lie?
Hidden in a beautiful disguise
Is it the way that we choose to see things?
Or is it only about what is revealed by time
Does it come across unannounced?
Or is there some kind of sign?
Is it hard to hold onto?
Or is it wise to let go?
Is it worth gambling all that you can have?
And forgetting all that you believe you know?
Searching for it endlessly-
Isn’t that what we usually do?
Not once stopping to look back
Thinking that there’s no way
That you could have found it so soon
Maybe it’s just another name,
For something mysterious, that doesn’t exist
Or maybe someone will walk up to you someday
And give it a whole new meaning,
Clearing up the mist
What is, perfection then anyway? –
A moment when you realize
That nothing could be more perfect
Than what lies before your eyes…