March 17, 2012
By Anonymous

No one knows.
It’s not that they don’t want to,
But I’ll never tell.
Not a whisper
Carried in a tear.
Not a cry
Shown in a face.
I am a rock and rocks can’t cry.
They are only used for stepping.

You step on a rock;
It holds your weight.
You throw it around;
It doesn’t hit back.
It never breaks,
Or crumbles in sight;
A permanence on Earth quickly passed by.
No second glance, they are all the same.
Look again.
Next time you step on this rock,
Watch out.
I might crack.
You just might fall through.
Then what will you walk on?

The author's comments:
The cracks are invisible, but they are breaking me from the inside.

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