Perfection, a Poem

I let my work talk for itself...

Never in mortal's reach

Yet ambitious hands stretch

Failure, anger and a screech

Aw, poor mortal wrench

 

Mortals with hand too small for dream

Gods with dream too small for hand

Is life's ironic scheme

To illustrate the damned

 

Why one chases their tail to chew

Or why one doesn't chews the tail never chased

To me is an unexplained shrew

Who has the world aced

 

But if perfection standard  

If dreams reality

If flaws slandered

What will be goaled normality? 

Author's Note

Do you get the main message?

Reviews

[Jai Garg]

The last stanza needs redoing.

Flawed perfection (when we cant comprehend) is the beauty we see in nature.
So what is normal in our existence!
Why where we born and where do we go after death?

If we knew this we would know the infinite.