Cut From Stone

They say it's whats on the inside that counts but they lie and so I'll make my body perfect for you. I'll run, lift, pull. Take what was weak and make it strong, what once walked through crowds unnoticed the envy of men. While everyone else makes their bodies feeble and soft with late nights and strong drink I'll build mine up, discard from my body everything useless and unwanted. Turn myself into something so cut and without flaw, that I'll dwarf your own self-image and no matter how bad I treat you or what I say you'll think to yourself "I can't do any better then him". And after awhile of this, when most would find contentment in themselves I'll spend hours looking at myself in the mirror trying to find new things to hate, always knowing that contentment is the great killer of progress. They will call me vain but I will know that I was the weak man who found a way to conquer his own deficiencys.