The pursuit of perfection has always confused me
Everyone striving to become more than themselves
And while this sounds very noble
It really boils down to
"Enough is never Enough"
Because in this endless race to become everything
We forget what it was like when we were something
So we trudge forward ignorant of our passing joys
Only aware of our seemingly constant suffering
And suddenly, without warning
We find ourselves lacking in what matters most
Too often we find ourselves hating, loathing, depressed
Because we realized we failed to achieve what we sought
When really all we ever needed
Was to look inside ourselves
And discover that it is not our weaknesses that made us imperfect
But that our broken bits and flaws
Made us into something
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