Stones

Omnimax47

Undefined, no purpose at all.

From the ground,

into our shoes.

So small and unprepared

For the large world that

we take for granted.

How they are made

we do not know.

We walk them over

like the young and the poor.

They get used for

the hardship of work.

Overlooked and mysterious,

The stones.

We don’t understand,

they control the way

that things are done.

You may not know,

yet they happen from

Big to small.

 

  • Author: Alfred Lord Tennyson (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 23rd, 2018 07:04
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 8
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Comments +

Comments1

  • sylviasearcher

    I have a bot of a fascination with pebbles so I liked this poem... I wrote a poem about pebbles once.



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