The Perfect Statue
I walk among the statues
In the halls of the master's art
Where all that is beautiful is put
They are perfect almost as if you walk to up to them and talk and be answered by them
every time they are seen it seems they have moved slightly
I am amazed and bedazzled by these statues
Meet the sculptor and ask how he could makes such beauty
He looks me up and down and says I will in fact you can help with my next one
I am delighted and agree to help with enthusiasm he takes me to a back room
And tells me to close my eyes I do so and wait to find out what happens next
I hear strange noises he tells me to open my eyes
I open them he then tells me to strike a pose I do
A fierce and manly pose he then pulls a lever
Im covered and a strange gray goo I try to move to yell at him
And find I cant move my body is paralyzed
He then breaks out he's sculpting tools and slow scraps off bits of the goo
And then he calls out two big movers they pick me up
And put me on a display and know I now why the sculptures look real
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