the stone

lying among the rubble and dust
too long have I been for a human touch.
A contact that would set me free of
the burden that I carry within; dense, dark and useless.

He kicked me once, the inquisitive little kid.
as far as I could go, I went. Laying there as I was,
crude and unwanted again.
He kicked me twice, a hard poke on my sharp edge
I rolled over a few times, ending up by the gutter’s side.
Maybe he wanted a soul-less company
with which he didn’t share any feelings as such.
And I was happy to be, I was so stupid and stone-like to see.
Wasn’t it obvious when he kicked me the n’th time?
No, it wasn’t. I’m clingy and I felt his inconsideration
throughout this forlorn rant put down not as rhyme.

lying among the rubble and dust,
just altered in position and place.
He looked at me once with all passions at rest
and boy I could not forget his face.
As I lay there as an unwanted stone
just in the eerie coldness of the curb
and at the entry of his lovely home.