I am of stone so nobody could hear me
I am of clay so I could be born again
I am of silence so I could listen to a morning dew
I am bowed by the woe so I wouldn't remember the name of its giver
I am motionless so my wail could be louder.
I am of noone so I wouldn't desire
I am not here It's only you looking at what I could have become.
And I have become what you haven't made me be.
copyright Jann C. Castor ©