The Object of Attention

From my vantage point I can see

Throngs of people milling about

Usually they stop to look at me

Because I have that kind of clout

Some give me a mere passing glance

Others give me a long, hard stare

Some comment on my expression and stance

Some would love to touch me, but do not dare

I am used to being thoroughly scrutinized

Discussions on my attributes I hear

You would think by now I’d be desensitized

I already have a permanent sneer…

All sorts of opinions I have heard

Some exalted, some just ridiculous

Explanations abstract that sound absurd,

I am used to attention assiduous..


Like a performer on stage perpetually

I have been basking in public attention

I have immortalized my creator actually

Of his talent, I am a representation. 

Now that you are at the end of the poem, let me reveal the somewhat cryptic identity of the narrator- this poem is written from the point of view of a famous statue- I had “David” at Accademia in Florence, Italy in mind. He was created my Michelangelo in the 16th century.

DSC03299 (2)

Replica of “David” outside the Palazzo Vecchio, Florence, Italy

Published by iheart11

A 30-something year old woman, physician by profession, fiercely passionate about work, family, travel and fashion..

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