My name is Rocky, given from birth
The hard rebellion of a dry earth
Broken parched pieces turn into sand
A desert foreboding, a wasteland
My surface cracks, so many my flaws
Tooth marks where nature's teeth gnaws
Here only cactus and thistles grow
All covered in winter by drifted snow
Scorpions and snakes fill my holes
Over my surface a tumbleweed rolls
A desolate place unwanted by man
Sunbaked scorching hot, a frying pan
Lying unchanged over countless years
Broken stone never washed by heaven's clear falling tears
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: April 3rd, 2026 03:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Cindy, Teddy.15, Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: Acceptance, Adversity, Alienation, Discarded, Rebellion.
Offline)
Comments6
excellent write much enjoyed
Thank you Norman for your read and comment it is appreciated
most welcome
A beautiful piece of wisdom with beautiful lines. 🌹
Thank you very much Teddy for the review and most kind words they are always most appreciated
Good write SB.
Thank you Orchi I appreciate your review and words of support
Exceptional piece as is customary of your work.
Thank you Katie you are most kind. Your read and comment are most appreciated
Soren, there’s a raw, unchanging weight to this…from the cracked surface to that final line of never being washed clean. That image of nature gnawing at it anchors everything. It doesn’t move…it endures. Well done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you so much my friend for your review and kind understanding words of comment they are as always most appreciated
KP's complaining again. Dunno why! I give her food, with ideas in your poems. I give her 'vegetables' of cactus and thistles! lol.
Thanks Orchi. Actually that could be quite tasty and maybe too rich for her stomach. There is not much water in the desert for soup though.
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