Chisels

About my struggle to overcome naivety and just be who I am.

Once was a pillar erected
   on the outskirts of the village
     A structure of purest white
  A shining, gleaming obelisk 

 But the villagers found it an eyesore;
     its shape disproportionate to 
their aesthetic views

          Day by day they took to it with
hammers and chisels, to mould it 
     unto their likening
         Night by night the pillar shrank
 its shape everchanging
              its luster dulling
                     the white marred with chalk and ash 

         Until one day it was all but demolished--
left as but a jagged rock that cut all who bore it embrace.