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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/798621-The-Statue
Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #798621
This is the poem that helped me find myself.


A clay statue unknown to the eye
Stands strong, stands free, stands high
I walk toward it in a slow but fast pace
With a trembling look upon my face
For I want to be like it and have it near
I want it to save me and block my fear
But as I reach for its forbidden hand
The statue crumbles to blocks of sand
I kneel down, weeping, beholding the crumbs
Here's an ear, an eye, and there, the thumb
Though through my weeping eyes, it pieces one by one
I almost smile when it's just about done
But as I reach outward and toward its hand
It crumbles before me once again
Out of frustration and anger I scream out loud
"Why won't it stand again, happy and proud?"
I touched it twice and it fell to my feet
It was something I wanted and something I need
My life and thoughts shown through its eyes
The smile it gave made me feel good inside
My spirit shown through where the heart would be
My God, this statue, is a statue of me!
I broke its beauty with the sadness in my heart
And because of my fears...I fell apart?
The smile it gave represented my joy
But because of myself...I am destroyed?
I need to build it again and start anew
But instead of reaching for myself,
I need to reach out for the love of you.
© Copyright 2004 Sadeyes (justaphase_15 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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