Ebbs and flows

Many strive for.....
The perfect body
The perfect job
The perfect mate
The perfect...

The list can be endless
As opinions are boundless.
Last time I count
7 billion plus no doubt.
So what is this perfect?
That drives the human sect?
All I can speak
Are discoveries by this meek.
This drunk, this lush
Sober for time.
Yet arrogant still,
Buried in peace of mind.
So I tell myself when illusion of control.
Takes hold of me, others and virtue extol.
But when that anger, or fear, invariably creeps
Do I bury or mask, with defense mechanisms?
Or do I let myself weep?
This 'deep' questions, I've pondered for years.
Still no definitive answer is always clear.
Loss of love, or freedom, or monetary gain,
Do I return to the past, only to relive that pain?
I don't know, I can only speak now,
Exhausted from sprints in 110 heat index...
That pain clears the emotional somehow.
41 year old man working like a teen,
Maybe I still seek adulation or so it would seem.
But that anger, that fear, felt an hour ago...
Sometimes the souls heals the body, others
The body the soul.