Flaws of Worth
A rock as hard as granite,
Yet a pebble in the flow of life.
All shapes and sizes come and tumble by.
Satisfaction and contentment when alone
To ponder and digest the information of the day.
The soul becomes restless.
Wanting to be free; to wander and explore,
Yet imperfections impede the progress fully.
Thus, searches for a match of worth with passersby.
A masquerade it must have been
To think of finding thy mate.
Mated to one with endless, jagged, and pointy flaws
Who hurt your worth… abate.
Stuck fast in the present;
Too long you’ve settled in.
Groomed by deceit and lies
Has weathered the shape.
Yet an explosion from a hoof of fate,
Dislodges in a cloud of sand and muck.
To be free once more
Down the stream of life.
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