black is beautiful

Black is beautiful  When I tore lose from the mountain and fell into the river. I was a rough stone, offended other stones as I lacked manners and appeared gruff  Now, however, I'm smooth, oblong and black, feels no shame stating I'm masculine different from the shed gray other stones I share the riverbed with  spring is when ice melts on the mountain and I'm pushed along until I am an attractive black stone on a creamy white beach I'm worried about being stuck where the river is shallow; a boy might find me picks me up and put me on the widow sill  in his room and forget me until his mum throws me out with rusty nails, toys, and batteries I will never feel the sea washing over me and look hansom on a golden beach