I ponder these darling busted statues
With dark lines prevailing a shrouded cloak

I ponder these busted statues
With curled brows and wandering thought

Busted statues from cliché dreams
Dripping wet tears on life’s unraveled seams

As I see them in the museum, I frown
All of them are destroyed
Crumbling under the weight of time

Ponder, ponder, ponder and think
A statue and a shadow on the ice
Cold

Frozen, she watches over the crowd
The jubilant rejoicing children

That do not know the fate that has befallen these statues
Though soon those children themselves
Will be forced into a stone prison

There to die as I did
When age finally caught up to me
And I stopped caring for the statues
Once whole and pure in my mind
And now busted

Darling, don’t you see they are hiding from us?
They cannot speak…

But I can, and I can tell the truth
The truth of the world
If only I knew what to say
Can truth be put into mere words?
Truth is better communicated

When it isn’t brought from something inanimate.