Life study

The canvas it's quite bare, in rudamentary state
its just a background wash
stands on its easel and just anicipates
the artist what will be his choice

That vision, was it muse to capture
that study of the perfect form
dorbs that are meant to flatter
a barbie doll, with perfect tits and bum adorned

Take the limbs the head and torso
portion it within a grid
find the truth, the good and awful
see inside, reveal the hues all hid

Accentuate the curves so pretty
are they pumped with silicone
inflicted scars of insecurity
can your brush obscure all that deform

Not the birthday suit that natured gave
it was the surgeon and his team
that impasto, to build not take away
that study, a disguised maybe

Will it always be a lie left to digest
 unabashed the sitters pose
can we see, its more that flesh
and as we look; are we as gross