To create a taller tower,
Yet no matter how high I make,
I wish it were even higher.
All size and shape and grain, I try,
Tirelessly I seek, my perfect base.
But never it seems my find would be so big,
that would finally put an end to this chase.
A cruel art balancing it seems,
is this eternal play,
As time just casually ticks past,
without even a moments stay.
So, forever the question remains,
What is it that you would pick?
Would you head out to horizon and seek some more,
or with whatever you've got, you'd just stick?
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