Some were born onto the shoulders of monuments
Eternal configurations pristine and untouched by the years
Whose prow waits for a map of pathways to mark their porcelain facade

Some were born onto the shoulders of crumbling statues
Preeminent figures decaying from weight of problems suppressed
Whose cracks like pathways trace maps across their surface

We were born onto the shoulders of giants
Immortal beings whose arms welcome us in
Whose wrinkles like pathways trace maps across their skin