Statue of Reality

December 15, 2011
The figure stands in the corner.
It doesn’t want any trouble, but it will continually ask for it.
Literally, asking for it.
It’s not weird though, everything can talk,
But the statue is the wisest.

It will give advice,
But no one wants to believe it,
After all, it’s a statue, and statues aren’t people.
This makes the statue sad.

He will feed his chipmunk a falcon,
For that is its favorite snack.
Meanwhile, while the chipmunk is eating,
The statue will remember that he is not real.

Why can’t I be like them?
Reliable, compassionate, angry if needed.
But I am used, and no one loves me.
Yet I continually try to be loved.

Maybe if I kill… I will be noticed.
People will look at me,
But I am reasonable. I will be looked down on.
What do I do?

I am real, and everyone knows it.
My cup is full of hatred for those who look down on me.
I will never live up to my mother’s standards.
Wait…I have no mother!

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