Pandora’s box will wait upon death’s call
that comes from Charlotte’s violence. All ears
hear rising tumult over statue, tall.
And there rides Robert Lee. His horse he steers.
Old statesman, warrior of Civil War;
his sword , no longer at the charge or flies.
Yet fought he for the South; felt duty for;
now moderns see as wrong and strong they cry.
A strange, new hatred clashes in our day:
Old Robert’s history must die, some say.
Pandora’s box of symbols open snakes.
(Form: “821” Rules: Must contain 3 stanzas. lst=8 lines; 2nd=2 lines; 3rd=1 line summation.)