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.
The Daily Travesty 