William Robinson Poet I do not know?

Rock Solid

I used to have a solid friend,
Whose name was Limestone Jim.
Although he never spoke a word,
I often had long talks with him.
                                                  
Now, I could always find him
In his place, up on the hill,
And if only he had listened,
I am sure that he would be there, still.
                                                 
I told him to be vigilant
Of dangers, around the clock.
He never showed an ounce of fear;
Old Limestone was a mighty rock.

I tried to warn him many times,
But he couldn't see things my way.
So they crushed him into gravel,
And spread him on the highway.

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