When Statues Fall

A statue crumbling right in front of me
The stoic facade breaking.
How could the marble give way,
right out where I can see?

The father falling from his pedestal.
The wind and rain pulled him down.
Where does the icon belong,
Besides the ground where it can fall

I can hear the rumble and the cracks.
A great man falling before your eyes.
A new one brought before me.
In this one, the strength lacks

Maybe the statue was made flawed,
it could never last through the storm.
Destiny wouldn’t let it stand,
But maybe had the wind not clawed.

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