Here's a poem I just did at an open mic event. Meh.. I like it.. but the poet's at the event told me it (well all of my poems) were terrible when I finished.
Enjoy..
Like A Pebble
Like a drop in the ocean,
That barely breaks the skin.
Absorbed into the surface,
Traceless, without significance.
Not creating any ripples,
Or tiny little waves.
Not affecting the movement,
Everything just stays the same.
The nature of its cause,
Is part of a greater good.
Being slight and insignificant,
Is only what it seems.
The ocean is made up of,
Billions of little drops.
All contributing to it’s life,
And that is their cause.
Like a pebble on the beach,
Resting on the sand.
Set apart from all the others,
Blending in as best it can.
It sits a top of the sand,
Resting silently.
It does not move or change position
Remaining still for no one to see.
The pebble will go unnoticed
By those of a common eye.
Standing out only to the ones,
With the solitude to not just walk on by.
The beach is made up of,
Millions of these anomalies.
Only showing themselves to those,
Those that can truly see.
Like a pebble in a hand,
Laying on the skin.
Picked up from the ground,
As it did not quite blend in.
Above a lowly puddle,
This hand hovers on high.
Turning over slightly,
Releasing the pebble to the ground, it’s fall is nigh.
The pebble penetrates the crust,
Disturbing its peacefulness.
Waves and little ripples,
Fill this puddles existence.
For this little pebble,
Was taken from its spot.
Taken to somewhere else,
Where it could make a difference and have a cause.
The pebble made the puddle,
Disperse and expand,
Shifting its meaning and destiny
By the release of a hand.
As everything has its spot.
And place where it belongs.
Going outside and making a difference,
Was the pebbles purpose all along.