Pedestals

A poem of faulty worship

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1. Pedestal

 We have a habit of placing the people we love on pedestals.

Our visions foggy,
perceptions skewed,
opinion biased.

But flawlessness is doomed.

We revel in their light and soak up the heat.

But they wobble,
they teeter totter,
on the edge. The precipice.

We shout out to them words of praise.

Soon gravity takes effect
and they're falling
crashing
down

We look at them with shock, surprise, resentment.

How dare they fall!

With skinned knees and stained cheeks they march.

Forever on.
 

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