Placed on a pedestal
Eyes on you, reticle
The words from your lips
Become objects, remembered by many
Yet forget who spoke it
Put onto a stage
Everything becomes a haze
Parade for the savior
Festivities for the mentor
Who came up with one idea
Which they didn't even like
Falling from grace implies never being disgraced
Idea, object, turned to a phrase
Until they move on, then set it ablaze