He resides in a lab lets jus say its temporary.
Mr. Hard Body men shall carry.
Hard and cold, deprived of color.
My heart begins to beat for him.

His jewelry is now a small tag which hangs from his toe.
His name probably unknown.
His skin is as hard as bone.

An awkward admiration I give him from a far because my greatest fear is to greet him.
For once I have tried; his face still lingers in my mind.

At life our dear Mr. Hard has failed.
But in his footsteps we shall all follow.
This thought fills me up I am glass of sorrow.

But until my time I’ll look down on you.
As the ground consumes you.
My poem will end.
In memory of you.