Delightful are these colors bare Whittled together to become chalk She gathered them up into her arms to share But found no one with whom to talk Distraught, she took the dusty pink And onto the paper lined the cupid’s bow She dragged and let the pigment sink The features hastily began to flow Her hands reached desperately, longingly to pull more out Two ears, a wide nose, And eyes that could put to rout Her lonesome heart and all its prose A face stared back at her Almost as real as you and me But he only made her suffer As he blankly watched the evidence of her passionate plea Stick to the skin on her fingertips like honey There is no Aphrodite in this world To breathe life into Pygmalion’s ivory woman So beside her love she defeatedly curled With only an impossible dream to abide in
Comments