If I was to listen to my TV, I might be obsessed with perfection

I might want a beautiful body or a silky smooth complexion.


I might lust for two enormous houses on a mountain top and shore

Each decorated by the finest designers in luxurious decors.


I’d want my pools to go on forever with waterfalls and a great views

With spas and underwater lights, and outdoor kitchens too


I’d drive a red Ferrari or any car that would astound

Wait, who needs a Ferrari, my chauffeur can drive me around.


I’d most likely be a famous athlete or perhaps a movie star

I might own an island in the Pacific and smoke Cuban cigars...


But when I look in the mirror if I take the time to pause

At my body and seems I have some flaws.


My body, although adequate, seems to droop in the wrong place

And God knows what those spots are that have appeared upon my face.


The house Deborah and I inhabit is quite small, not to complain

But the laundry room’s unfinished and the street floods in the rain.


Deborah and I both drive Honda’s and although Honda’s never corrode

In our least expensive Hondas you can’t help but feel the road.


The money we make being teachers by the end of summer fades

Because teachers, believe it or not, during summers don’t get paid.


Then yesterday our family came for a visit (Bryan we Skyped on the phone)

And I have to smile when I stop and think how splendid my life has grown.


You see I’ve realized something about perfection as I have gotten older

Perfection, like beauty, it seems to me lies in the eye of the beholder.


As we sat together--on the walls of our house laughter was adorning

Now the kids are gone yet I still hear their laughter echoing this morning.


Deborah and I have each other and our children have happiness and health

From my perspective this morning I have to marvel at my wealth.


On television my life might not seem perfect...but I have to admit


In the real world I have a perfect least from where I sit.

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