Drawing Mannequin

You’re just my drawing mannequin

Mostly made of wood and wire.

You’re just my drawing mannequin

Always posing, yet never tired.

You’re just my drawing mannequin

Only metal springs in place of bones.

You’re just my drawing mannequin

Sitting there on my desk, all alone.

You’re just my drawing mannequin

To help my drawing skills improve.

You’re just my drawing mannequin

And when I leave, you never move.

You’re just my drawing mannequin

A faceless smile; genuine, old

Those creaking joints a faint memory

Of the poses you’ve had to hold.

And yet, for “just a mannequin”

You sure do have a lot to say.

About life on that desk where you

Stand still, up there night and day.

And maybe you’re just a mannequin

But if I could walk a mile

In those wooden shoes you have, would I?

Could I do it with a smile?

And when I came, tired, up to the end 

Would I look like you, so blank? Or

Is that the art of a metal heart

That an object like you couldn’t teach me?

Or would I sit there with you, then, just a mannequin

Like you, with that “genuine” smile?

I’ll never know, cause you’re just my drawing mannequin,

 But it was nice to talk for a while.