Ozymandias

our monumental history
maintains an air of mystery
but painted with a modern brush
it makes one wonder, at first blush
what's to be done if every shrine
repainted with a certain whine
is disassembled, brick by brick
back, as it where, to rock and stick
and if our cultural debate
akin to children, on our plate
we separate the different foods
based on our colors and our moods
what's to be done so we regain
a sense of what was right and plain
we've lost our will, our will to teach
some days it feels so out of reach