It is molded until finally spills
over into pieces it was never meant to be.
Shaping back together, finally
the sculptor tries to see its once perfect form
Slab by slab he plasters away
trying to find perfection
But he’s perplexed by the realization
Stopped in mid motion
For he does not know her true beauty
Sculpting from the inside out
Should he leave a little extra on
Or perhaps
He should take that scaffold and chip away
until she’s just thin enough
Maybe then he could love her
As the blank slab stands still
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