Paul David Low Alexander
Perfection - Poem by Paul David Low Alexander
Perfect is, as perfect was, as perfect shall always be,
Midst the dreams, or painted scenes, of an artist great indeed.
Perfect is, as perfect was, and still remains for me,
Obscurity steadfastly grasped in the hands of antiquity.
Perfect is, as perfect was, as perfect should have been,
Qualified with caveat, contents sold as seen.
Perfect is, as perfect was, as perfect is now at least
Long before, on foreign shore and forever out of reach.
Perfect is, as perfect was, alas, destined to be
No more than merest poem by someone as 'perfect' as me.
Comments about Perfection by Paul David Low Alexander
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You