Her hands
purely stone
Tampered with
Irregular
And Cold
As the snow that falls on the soldiers of Russia
Her feet
Worked
humble
And meek
As a servant that cowers at the sight of his master
not a soul knows
Of her eyes
Eyes—unmet
commanding enough
to unravel
the anger that wraps the heart of man
the unreasonable thinking of bloodshed
the secrecy of peace of mind
she knows her rule
over man-kind
but
she won't use it
she’ll wait
for the day
for she lingers
not to be looked at
eye to eye
but
heart to heart
hey! this is great! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Excellent portrayal of this irrational propaganda of....modern 'slavery' in our lives.....likewise, the chains of bowing attitude. Title could be colloquially read as 'A Statue: a Study'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
class work - fine read - good observation - great sensibility