A statue, with no meaning and life,
A head of brass, but a mind of strife,
forever stuck in the boundary of rock,
the border of life, death, and sheer mock,
ignored and ridiculed, bliss never given,
a path of insanity, stillness has driven.
Watching the world rotate and renew,
to watching corroded cities die to the blue,
glaring, as the city churns with luminous fire,
helplessness and sorrow, its situation so dire,
never will it move this immobile hand,
of fungus and rust, to help the land,
never will it close its opaque eyes of stone,
when all is pulverized, a statue stands lone.
It watches renovation, it watches destruction,
it's amused by humans, and their inductions,
so desolate, with only companionship of age,
it sees people as books, as they turn each page,
tears of warped stone, never seeing the kind,
loneliness, a fear, quietly follows behind.
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Poetry~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
