The watcher

He watches all the comings and goings in the park

Always standing always leering

No one ever speaks to him

He is silient as stone

He watches for weeks and years

A marble heart and a marble soul

No tears form on his cheeks he captures only one expression

He watches with eyes that never move or close

Birds are his friends they perch on his shoulders

But they shit on him

The local youths sprayed him with graffiti the other day

and gave him a traffic cone for a hat

if only statues could speak

they would make the best observers of mankind.