Idols sit high above heads of worshippers

Locked away in tall towers

Fantasised about

The warm and supple walk dirt paths that stick to them

Feet are caked in the earth they travel

They wash it off to stand in the presence of something greater than themselves

The sun sets and eyes follow it

It calls them to places that are unknown

While religious monuments stay locked away

Holding idealism in their outstretched arms

Madonna stands graciously offering redemption and kindness

For a shiny penny or an act of penance

My feet shall retain their dirt

As I pass by Madonnas door

My eyes shall remain downcast

As fallen as an apple to the ground

For dust is my kin and the earth is where I shall return

If I lie in it to rest

Or stand in it to live

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