Poet Your Way
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Because culture and life!
Life as a rock
I was born.
I was stepped on.
I was tread, trampled, frolicked, kicked, danced, trotted, run, and even licked on.There were points that I almost splintered
Pieces of me breaking off to go their own direction
But I held on strong.For to be a rock
Means no voice
No opinion
Nothing in sound or melody
That expresses what occurs to you.For you are the Rock.
Meant to be standing timeless
Polite, sturdy, accepting
All the time.To other rocks
I hear you.
Even in the quiet that encloses
Every living creature,
I will always hear you.To those who don't listen
I am but a rock.
I cannot teach you my language
It has no words
But I can stub your toe
Every now and then
To make my point.Mia
