← ALL POEMSMURMURATION
CHAINED TO PERFECTION
All this perfectionism, just to never get close
The whole room a party- I, it's unsettled host
A concierge for the world, but never for myself
I cast my hopes aside, dreams are placed upon the shelf
The whole room a party- I, it's unsettled host
A concierge for the world, but never for myself
I cast my hopes aside, dreams are placed upon the shelf
A chip in a china cup, a hairline crack within a plate
An intricate grandfather clock- that chimes, but just too late
Beautiful- and still of use, persistent, often honest
But despite all my might- never fully flawless
An intricate grandfather clock- that chimes, but just too late
Beautiful- and still of use, persistent, often honest
But despite all my might- never fully flawless
Faultless I may never be, still I chase like wild geese
I mindfully smooth out each flaw- a hot iron to a deep crease
Imprisoned by my own volition, chained to fake rules in my mind
I chip away at my marble frame, careful to not wound my own pride
I mindfully smooth out each flaw- a hot iron to a deep crease
Imprisoned by my own volition, chained to fake rules in my mind
I chip away at my marble frame, careful to not wound my own pride
Why should I subject myself to such brutal introspection?
When the days go by, nonetheless, with no regard to my imperfection
I know it's true, that if I strive, I'm bound to arrive at the summit
But, to continue down the path that I'm on- a paragon, too, would plummet
When the days go by, nonetheless, with no regard to my imperfection
I know it's true, that if I strive, I'm bound to arrive at the summit
But, to continue down the path that I'm on- a paragon, too, would plummet