Stone Under Foot

Your surface has seen my hands and feet,

As I have grown up tall.

Your face has cracked and grown old with moss,

But your strength will never bow.

As a boy I traced my fingers bare,

Over your pebbled and contoured skin.

I remember your bumps and corse design as I drove over you with my toy cars.

But now it’s different, there are two of me, and the cars are new and unknown.

-M.E. InkOwl

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