The Static Masses


Even when I was younger
I could feel your slimy sculptor�s hands shaping every uneven feature of my body after your fantasies
Forever crafted to a silent
Excessive perfection
Fingers digging out all visible flaws,
Yet you still aren�t satisfied with your work
I�ll never breathe or blink or look you in the eye
I�ll never show a single sign that I�m alive
The time will come to break the chisel
That hacked away our trust
I�ll never speak or think or spit straight in your eye I�ll never show a single sign I can defy
You need to understand it�s what you�ve done to all of us
As you approach, I�ll always freeze right where I�m standing, heart beating faster under the cold,
Hard clay that has become my skin
It�s buried so deep,
You�d never know it was there But you�re seeking something
I can see it when you examine my every feature for something more than what you�ve designed
I�ll never breathe or blink or look you in the eye
I�ll never show a single sign that I�m alive
The time will come to break the chisel that hacked away our trust
I�ll never speak or think or spit straight in your eye I�ll never show a single sign I can defy
You need to understand it�s what you�ve done to all of us
Weighed down by my own heavy splendor, I�m just a statue to pose at your parties, surrounded by a stiff, leering mass groping for a feel of the new old trend
But what more can I give you besides my rigid presence?







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