Ever since I can long remember,
Trying to make everything right,
Now my life, reached September,
Long struggle, turns into a fight.
Facing the truth of good enough,
Can’t compete with anything more,
Giving in and calling my bluff,
No anticipation of what’s in store.
Perhaps it’s all inside of us,
Born with the gift from beginning,
Relearning how to coalesce,
As natural voice, takes to singing.
I’ve never met that perfect one,
Why should I think I could be?
In the end, will life feel undone?
Or will death simply set me free?
G.R. Gaus's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Perfection by G.R. Gaus )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(7 April 1889 – 10 January 1957)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
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