Frame Dude

My family photos sit upon
the fireplace mantlepiece,
a vast array of kinfolk,
here a cousin, there a niece.

Amid this row of relatives
I see your smiling face;
with handsome, even features
it looks oddly out of place.

So fit and tanned and gorgeous,
your perfection fairly glows
next to Cousin Linda's lazy eye
and Grandpa's bulbous nose.

I love them all, I really do,
they mean the world to me.
But for them to look like you
they'd need cosmetic surgery.

So even though you don't belong
among this motley crew,
your picture shall remain because
I've grown attached to you.

When people ask me who you are
and want to know your name,
I shrug and say to them,
"Beats me, the guy came with the frame."