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The Truth of Perfection (London Skyline)

For you to feel as you feel right

By Joshua Lino-da CostaPublished 5 years ago 2 min read
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What shall I seek if not perfection from a city that can teach me only this;

That there is no such a thing as perfection.

To glisten under sunlit rays,

Sparkling and beauteous at every moment,

Flowing gradually onwards

Accompanied by the coaxing cry of the crow;

But flow into deathly, decaying darkness,

Staining the crystal character

For the use of… If only I knew

Why we change our direction from right to wrong.

You do not belong in this deathly darkness.

Escape from the shadows.

For the shadow of a city lies not in the wondering shield above

But the hearts of its damned inhabitants.

Though smoke can fade and noise be silenced

And the sun shine down on a crowded road

No power can melt an iced heart;

No hammer destroy an unbreakable rock.

I look not at the city but those who dwell within.

I see a rag whose eyes seek a gaze

But a lost child’s cry is not caught by passing waves.

If only all were like you and me

Who could walk along side each other happily.

Then we can admire what is in our sight

What is bright and beautiful from day to night.

Not like many brothers do green fields seek asylum

But their beauty is lost on closed eyes.

Only in this fair city can noise and pollution

Sit aside peace and harmony.

I sit in a field aside a Gipsy Road

And look out upon the heart of our beating city.

Why can you not see what I see?

The creative vision of generations merging together to create…

The London skyline!

The wind murmurs of past glory

But as each memory is replaced by today’s monster

The wind draws silent.

But within every monster burns an Olympic flame

That no dark or damp surrounding could dream to put out.

Behind every mask is an unknown name

A lowly voice that tries to shout.

What do I see before my eyes?

I do not know. Do you?

Is it great or is it not?

Is it crowded or is it efficient?

At times I feel like a mouse in a Dickens maze

Trapped in cramped, crowded conditions;

Trapped in a raging blaze

Unable to find my way to the sanctuary I know is there.

If London was a mathematical sum,

The answer would be zero

For every inch of darkness is matched by equal beauty;

Every rag met by a cloth.

When you open your eyes to creatures unknown

You see ice can be melted and rocks be cracked.

Out of a monster, angels have grown

For where one believed sentiment lacked

It lies when it is needed.

The meaning of the word human is not to be completely perfect

But perfect to oneself and only that.

For beauty to lie within a created wall,

Those among need to keep that extract so.

So once again I know this is true;

That there is no such a thing as perfection

So it has been said.

performance poetry
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About the Creator

Joshua Lino-da Costa

I've been writing for years. Not always great... but it means a lot to me

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