| Perfect This poem was actually an assignment for my American Literature class. We were supposed to write a poem looking back on our lives after we had died. I put it here basically because it summed up my life at the time, and it's a work that I'm very proud of (despite the fact that it doesn't rhyme). I was never the one to stand out, And I was never the one to truly suceed. Looking back, I suppose I did well enough, But I always wanted more. When everyone else saw their dreams come to life, I stood in the crowd. I had my happy times, my ups and downs,just like everyone else. However, throughout my life, I was never satisfied with my efforts. There was always someone better, stronger, or faster than I. I often asked myself, "Why me?" and, "Why now?" But of couse that never helped. I would lie in bed at night and hope for a miracle. I hoped for the perfect life. Though, I suppose everyone knows That miracles are only for fairytales, And I've learned first hand That there is no such thing as perfect. P O E T R Y H O M E |