Statues may tumble
But hate still stands
On a pedestal, proud
And foolishly clinging
To a dying light
To a long since lost battle
That will never end.
Walls crumble, steel bends
And the spirit bows
But right or wrong, friend,
It just does not break.
Even standing there
In the rubble of "what should be"
Realizing that doesn't exist now.
There is only "what is".
And all you can do is fight.
Bridges burn, and we'll never
Make it back to where
We were before the fires.
Simply standing on the banks
On our pedestals
In the rubble
Chest puffed
Chin out
Needing to break something else.
Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 6:27 PM UTC
Statues may tumble
But hate still stands
On a pedestal, proud
And foolishly clinging
To a dying light
To a long since lost battle
That will never end.
Walls crumble, steel bends
And the spirit bows
But right or wrong, friend,
It just does not break.
Even standing there
In the rubble of "what should be"
Realizing that doesn't exist now.
There is only "what is".
And all you can do is fight.
Bridges burn, and we'll never
Make it back to where
We were before the fires.
Simply standing on the banks
On our pedestals
In the rubble
Chest puffed
Chin out
Needing to break something else.
We memorialize the wrong things.
Request permission to use this poem