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Array ( [sid] => 162289 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Statues of our Heroes [time] => 2010-09-12 17:10:46 [hometext] => [bodytext] => A the lone statue of a man sits in the wind
and a lone boy sits at its feet
he wonders why the man was born a hero
and he, just a lone boy sitting at his feet

He walks home noticed only by the passing wind
he thinks of the statue and fame
of lives beyond his living
of sacrifices beyond his will

The boy grows up and looks like man
but ist still just a lone boy, sitting at the feet of a statue
he no longer wonders how or why tomorrow,
but just what today.

Yet today was to set the shape of his tomorrow
and the wind passing by his startled face
becomes a hurricane of words, and suddenly
he knows he was born no hero,
but perhaps becoming one was all the same

and of course, the lone boy, sitting at the feet of the statues
wishing he had statues of his own, accepts to give up his
years, his loves, his life,
for some godforsaken highway to fame and
a life of null and void

And as he pushes humanity's limits
he becomes a man, who's future is not years
but darkness, and death comes soon enough
embraced by the man-hero

His people whimper in the dark
true, if temporary, but perhaps true remorse
waterfalls of tears, massive sadness
for not being able to see in the lone boy at the feet on the statue
the man-hero who gave traded his life for theirs

But the tears dry up, like the cement of his statues,
statues not to the sitting lone boy,
but to the man-hero they saw, and he wanted,
proudly standing as the wind passes through his battle scarred fingers...

And a lone boy sits at the feet
of the sitting statue, in the passing wind,
wondering why he was never a lone boy,
but born a man-hero... [comments] => 1 [counter] => 162 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Obnoxious_Bread [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 6 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )

Statues of our Heroes

Contributed by Obnoxious_Bread on Sunday, 12th September 2010 @ 05:10:46 PM in AEST
Topic: StoryPoetry

A the lone statue of a man sits in the wind
and a lone boy sits at its feet
he wonders why the man was born a hero
and he, just a lone boy sitting at his feet

He walks home noticed only by the passing wind
he thinks of the statue and fame
of lives beyond his living
of sacrifices beyond his will

The boy grows up and looks like man
but ist still just a lone boy, sitting at the feet of a statue
he no longer wonders how or why tomorrow,
but just what today.

Yet today was to set the shape of his tomorrow
and the wind passing by his startled face
becomes a hurricane of words, and suddenly
he knows he was born no hero,
but perhaps becoming one was all the same

and of course, the lone boy, sitting at the feet of the statues
wishing he had statues of his own, accepts to give up his
years, his loves, his life,
for some godforsaken highway to fame and
a life of null and void

And as he pushes humanity's limits
he becomes a man, who's future is not years
but darkness, and death comes soon enough
embraced by the man-hero

His people whimper in the dark
true, if temporary, but perhaps true remorse
waterfalls of tears, massive sadness
for not being able to see in the lone boy at the feet on the statue
the man-hero who gave traded his life for theirs

But the tears dry up, like the cement of his statues,
statues not to the sitting lone boy,
but to the man-hero they saw, and he wanted,
proudly standing as the wind passes through his battle scarred fingers...

And a lone boy sits at the feet
of the sitting statue, in the passing wind,
wondering why he was never a lone boy,
but born a man-hero...

Copyright © Obnoxious_Bread ... [ 2010-09-12 17:10:46]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Statues of our Heroes (User Rating: 1 )
by lesoleilnoire on Sunday, 12th September 2010 @ 05:18:50 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Very interesting. It gives me a sense of someone not feeling like he or she has done enough with life. I felt the loneliness of the boy a great deal. I may be off in my interpretation, but I definitely enjoyed.

Heidi

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