This is something everybody knows,
The craftsman, mathematician, philosopher,
And parent, as far as that goes.
But there is definitely an ideal state,
That something can find itself in,
Which requires moving with the flow of imperfect things,
So you are in line with their imperfections,
And somehow there is a perfect way of thinking,
About reality, as such,
Which surely must leave you in that perfect state,
Even amidst this imperfect bunch,
Of humans, alright,
Who might be perfect themselves, in their own way,
Who may just want to be perfect with you,
One of these days.