Edward Scissorhands

Edward Scissorhands, lives in a castle secluded and alone.
Crumbling walls ,lawn scupltures, he calls his home.
Dressed up in leather belts, bags and all.
Spends his days, dreaming,hides in darkening halls.
Little Avon lady came,took him away.
Pale complexion, visable scars, in worn leather,encentric scissors.

Creative and innocent, is now aored and loved.
Extreme Imagination, niave,adorable and sweet.
He was the talk of the town,the character of the street.
He yearned for the love of a pretty girl named Kim.
She saw something different in him, he cared, he was so magical.
He excepted her, no matter what, he craved her kiss, her approval.Neither man nor robot, creation in his own.
Fairytale character, tradegy prone.

He was used, was betrayed, puked when he drank lemonade.
He was outcasted, he was enslaved, he got framed, he got blamed.Committed a crime out of the love he had for a redheaded girl.
He thought her precious, like the earths last pearl.
All he desired was to love, hold , and kiss her, but he could not.His hands, the source of his pain, his pleasure,beyond any measure.

Terrible events occured, Edwards in danger, retreats back to his disintergrating lair,Kim chases after him, such a forbidden affair, their she kissed him,for the first and last time, a sublime momment ripped in the space of time, she told him, I love you.

Edwards dreams came true.
When it snows Edwards's making ice scupltures.
It never snowed down here, until after he came she said,
imagery of her dancing in the snow in her head.
It seemed like Edward was out of this world,
like he came from a different land.

She'll always remeber,
Edward Scissorhands.
 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Edward Scissorhands is one of my favorite movies of all time. Tim Burton is a brilliant director, So I decided to write a poem to honor the film.

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