The fault in our stars

I used to think that when I grow
My stuttering tongue will grow away 
Perfection will hang on my sleeves
And all the "buts" will sink to the bottom.

When I consider the change and chance I see around
I thought  that people are always good
And evil will finally drop in a dirty shoreless sea.

I used to think when I was a child
The blossom boldness of babies shall not be tamed
As they flirt as a beautifully painted fan.

 But half the earth I have moved through
And half the planet I have plotted through
Looking for a star without a fault
Plotting for a soul without a spot