A carving of natural materials, a reconstruction of the dead

A way to recall the deeds they did, the words of wisdom they said

Created by a devoted artist, one with a creative flare

With nimble able fingers the stone they must prepare

You are not just a statue, a design whittled in stone

Or something for birds to perch upon when at night you stand alone

Oh how the years have come and gone, along with the passing hour

You stand solo in wind and shine, beaten by brutal rain showers

Your structure holds history, a story captured in time

Noted down in history books depicted line by line

Birds decorate you with droppings, then fly abroad to Spain

With no option but to stay silent, you never weep or complain

The stone of which you were carved holds a history

The rest of your tale remains  deep mystery

No recognition is given to the workers wearing their hands to the bone

Constructing your every detail chipping away at sturdy stone

Defining all your features, your eyes with a knowledgeable glance

The slim legs you stand with giving you an elegant stance

You can admire the vast crowds from your high view

But remember you’re more than just a statue.


2 thoughts on “More than a statue (A Poem)

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