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My Pebble of a Friend
October 1, 2007
Old, light, yellow, not intact,
Small fragile, worn, and cracked.
Sad, afraid, and truly alone,
Cold and dry, far from home.
Speechless, yet speaks so loud,
Not another one from the crowd.
Tries to escape, breath after breath,
Rolling fast, to avoid certain death.
My intentions he surely mistakes,
Was not his life I wanted to take.
I sit once again, on my throne,
For yet once again, I am alone.
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