A Stone Alone?
My anger grips my heart with hands of ice;
Cold fury makes my brow burn and perspire.
The things of value, things that have no price
Are being trashed and thrown into the fire.
False promises are being made by liars
Who know full well they set out to deceive,
To drag those who speak sense into the mire,
While persecuting those who still believe
That history is not a leaking sieve,
That some things are still solid as the rock
Of ages that we cannot, must not, leave
Or we will put our legacy in hock.
A mountainside is more than just one stone;
Show me, mountain, that I’m not alone.
Copyright © Richard Grenville | Year Posted 2024
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