In Wanting To Be A Stone
in wanting to be a stone
an island is formed
rising from the river
a mountain is born
the shores expand
the banks traveled
like a viral disease
wanting to fill the
sea with nothing but
a wide expanse of
sand and pebbles
the feet feels like
some hands touching
a stem filled with thorns
not forgetting the rose
like the way i carry my
loneliness
my emptiness
with my bare
hands
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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