Si Monumentum Requiris, Circumspice
An obtrusive part of the cityscape, he looks down on passers-by who couldn’t care less. He’s stood there for so long, he’s known to everybody yet known by no one; just dust-coated brass among grime-encrusted concrete maintaining his cogitative countenance of casual conceit.
He was erected to remind a field of its purpose and so he did – for two orbits or so of the Earth around the Sun. Then his gaze grew less importunate, hazy, mundane until, eventually, it reminded the folk treading past him of no more than their quotidian purpose. Lofty ideals on a pedestal were too high for the pedestrian to whom he is now but an aberrant excrescence obtruding from the flat wall guiding their blind feet on the way to and from work.