The Statue

I looked up at the statue, and it looked down at me.

There we stood, unhappy wretches.

wph

VT

17 years old

More by wph

  • Poetry

    By wph

    Cameron Winter

    1)

    I think that when he looks at pianos, 

    The keys are stained and worn in 

    With grooves and dents,

    In the shapes of his fingerprints,

  • Poetry

    By wph

    The Eldest Game

    ghosts of peo / ple hiding in this house / they grew up in and left / hiding under tables in clo / sets long thin men pale pe / ople dark people all hidden / separately in the same room / waiting for the seeker to finis / h counting endlessly endl