Marvel at my chiseled lips
And my haughty, Roman nose.
Stare up into my haunted eyes
And wonder at my regal pose.
Caress my icy, marble skin.
Hold onto my lifeless hand.
Kiss my hard and waiting lips,
Then leave me in my pompous stand.
Speak in awe of my creator,
Cruel, hard, and evil man!
Who created my perfection
But chose to nail me on a stand.
Look at me! A desolate man,
Waiting for another kiss,
Yearning for a chance to hold you
And press warm lips upon your lips.
