deepundergroundpoetry.com
Statue
She pulls her hair back into a tight ponytail
She takes a long look at the picture
With hammer and chisel in hand
She begins the journey of trying to create the statue of a perfect man
Minutes turn into hours and hours turn into days
But his face is not yet perfect so she just continues to chip away
Her hands become numb and cramp
But his nose is not perfect yet
So she cant stop
Minutes turn into hours and hours turn into days
She's down to his lips and chin
But she still can't pull herself away
So she keeps on chipping away
The statue doesn't complain of course it wouldn't it's a flawed piece of stone that can't speak
Minutes have turn into hours and days into weeks
But she's still not content with his physic
So with the hammer and chisel she continues to critic
After all of the pounding the statue was just to weak
The final product was nothing but broken stone at her feet
She takes a long look at the picture
With hammer and chisel in hand
She begins the journey of trying to create the statue of a perfect man
Minutes turn into hours and hours turn into days
But his face is not yet perfect so she just continues to chip away
Her hands become numb and cramp
But his nose is not perfect yet
So she cant stop
Minutes turn into hours and hours turn into days
She's down to his lips and chin
But she still can't pull herself away
So she keeps on chipping away
The statue doesn't complain of course it wouldn't it's a flawed piece of stone that can't speak
Minutes have turn into hours and days into weeks
But she's still not content with his physic
So with the hammer and chisel she continues to critic
After all of the pounding the statue was just to weak
The final product was nothing but broken stone at her feet
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