Pedestal

• Charlie Stamatogiannis, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2020

I try to dig my heels into the pedestal
But to no avail
No chip or scratch or squeak
My soles, slipping across marble, are silent
Only the whispers are granted sound
Funnelling in and out and around
Pointing, trying to be profound

Did they do a good job?
Do you wish to have me in your living room?
A prisoner to nature
A warden, by the name of nurture

Stiff, exasperated by the same old routine
Exacerbated by the whispers
Funnelling in and out and around
All I am, could ever possibly be
Atop the pedestal, a moving statue