Pygmalionated

So if you ask him, he’ll say it’s the work
Alone that makes his life worth living now…
And so enamored is he of his own,
He cannot see the value of another’s.
There’s no appreciation in his voice,
Nor patience in his manner, nor a scrap
Of kindness t’ward another struggling soul,
No matter how heavy their burden is.
At some point in the past, this living man
Transformed himself into a lifeless stone…
And none of those around him find the statue
Worthy of a kiss. For him, life’s a myth.