Originality Over Perfection

man was slow with sticks and stone
dragged his world on his back of bone
then one carved wood and called it a wheel
and distance then learned how small to feel

one man laid wire through dirt and shame
they mocked his work, they cursed his name
he spoke to nothing, voice in the air
it landed in rooms a thousand miles from there

we scratched our thoughts in ink and wax
then one dreamed machines with minds to match
they said "impossible - you've lost your head"
he built the future while they slept in bed

another came with a glass and some light
a computer that fit his palm just right
touched the screen and it woke from sleep
a universe held in something so cheap

we copy and polish, year after year
some make it shinier, most disappear
but watch for the one who burns the map
he doesn't improve — he closes the gap

between what is and what could be
building new worlds no one else can see

we laugh and say "that'll never work"
call him crazy, call him berserk
then fall silent when he's already won
standing in light of what he's done

he's not here to make the old look nice
he's betting on things no one else would price
the ones who change everything we've seen
don't chase perfection, they chase what's never been