Flowers for Algernon

Someday in the future

Somebody will share

A painting so perfect

Nothing else can compare,

And most everybody

Will say “Ooh” and “Ahh”

Except for the few

Who insist there’s a flaw.

All other artwork

Before it and after

Won’t evoke the same awe

Or inspire such laughter,

Won’t bring to the eyes

The same sweetness of tears

And from then to the end

There will be the dark years

Where no art seems special

Like the ultimate piece,

So exhibits will dry up

And artists will cease.

New adventures will stagnate

When our needs are all met

So let’s just be happy

That we’re not perfect yet.

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Filed under Poems

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