I always wanted to meet a genius
Being not one myself
But every time I thought I'd found
Was always something unsound
A scratch or scrape in the wrong place
An area unclearly seen
That in the end
My search did end
No genius to be my friend.

Plenty in the times of old
The voice vigorous and bold
Now there is shimmer on the bough
Temptations for an hour
But that quality I do seek
Lies dormant and not complete.