37

I have never seen perfection

Nor even the reflection 

Of things but what my eyes can see

Of course this means for things to be

I must conceive of them myself.

The world we live in we create

And all the things we love and hate

Are stretched before us, vine and juice

One meant to bind and one to loose

Are we wise enough to choose?

The world we live in we create

With every step we write our fate

Can we be noble, free and brave

Or will we dig a shallow grave

With our foolish petulance? 

If the world we live in we create

Then it's monsters are the ones we make.