The Pebble


The pebble that breaks
the glass covered lake
so early in the morn,
cause the ripples to grow
in circumference so slow,
outward to a welcoming shore.

The ripples that glide
along the lakes’ mirrored side
so early in the day,
leaves on the sand
a remembering hand,
that contours it’s bank again.

For the reflection just took
an overwhelming look
at the world getting up out of bed,
so the wake that i make
from some urge, too late...
seven years of unluck lay ahead.

Why would i ruin such a picturesque state
of a vista with a double viewed sky?
with the toss of some pebble
i think may resemble
what it can take to lose a friend.

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    This Poems Story

    Welcoming a friendship, and just how fragile a friendship can be... that it could end because of a minor mistake. But i guess one can say that if they were a good friend they would be understanding and forgive.