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Poem

The ebony pencil marks up the ivory paper
It's silent strokes fill the page 
With hopes of a better portrait
Than the girl was given to begin with.

Its strokes collectively make up the face of a girl
A face of pure skin and pouty lips
Perfect in idea
And perfect in the image of the girls mind.

Shimmering hair reaches for the girls back
As it grasped to her perfect scalp
The tiny strands fill the head of the girl in the picture
Like a JEWELIZED crown upon a beauty queens head.

A slender figure fills the page
The limbs reaching for her sides
The snake like fingers perfect for the hold of a man
While her hips and chest plaster themselves
In the perfect hourglass shape.

The dark skies fill her vacant eyes
As they search your soul for the truth 
And allow you to see her passionate soul.

The eraser covers any imperfection
As it gently glides over each mistake
With skin perfect
And eyes so beautiful no man can resist her.

She is perfection at its best
She is exactly what every man dreams
She's a self-portrait
Made by a broken girl and shattered soul.

She is what the artist wished to be.

She is what I wish to be.

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