The Symbol

We build from the bottom,
placing ornaments where we think best,
trying to achieve the perfect balance,
aspiring to make something elegant.

We adorn it with artificial light
and wrap the body in silver-lining.
We elevate a woman, a star,
and we ask she symbolises substance.

Weeks pass and the beauty of it fades,
as trinkets sag and lose their shine.
The arms which supported so much promise,
brown and limp to the floor.

The silver-lining feels it's snap
and it gently unravels.
The light slowly fades away,
extinguishing entirely in places.

The symbol changes,
to something different,
but no less graceful.