A perfect partner can never be found
For no such thing exists on Earth,
And those who seem truly profound
Are perfection driven, by your eye's mirth,
Perception lacks the truth that's bound.
A myriad of quirks, some you hate,
Shapes and forms the soul you love.
The songs they hum all day, you hate;
And the glass indent that you love,
Are not the marks of a perfect mate.
This is not advice to be sought,
For the love of your life waits to be found.
The path is easy, no battle to be fought,
And they're waiting for you to come around;
For rain and hail both end a drought.
And when the years have gone,
The rose-tint of your eyes long lost,
Never once should you mourn,
The 'perfection' you saw, long lost.
So, if you ever find yourself falling in love,
Build a world with promise with them,
Instead of searching for perfection unknown.
And that is why a perfect partner,
Exists only in ink.