Statue

I resent all statues,

Copper, marble, wood.

Their idle stances mock me,

their frozen flawlessness annoys me,

and their simple fulfillment of purpose baffles me.

Effortlessly, they unveil thought, love, and creation to the world.

Yet my idle stances deteriorate me,

Tire, depress, and distress me.

They make me fat, hungry, and lonely,

Reminding me of imagined and proven inadequacies.

I'm constantly reminded that movement matters, "almost" misses.

My past failures spur discouragement.

Recalled fears burden motion.

Accomplishments fade to memories of temporary validation.

Reminders, reminders, must the past repeat always?

But statues... statues stand as sedentary symbols.

Their paralysis pleases passersby.

They depict one declaration, one emotion, one soul.

Nothing less, nothing more.

Mere figures devoid of reason or original comment,

Reminders, reminders, repeating always.

I wonder if with hardened hands they hang their heads

And wish for life of more significance

While I long for the respite and simplicity of motionless accomplishment.