Three Rocks

Life is like a box
Inside there are three rocks

The first one Created
And Stated
That he loved us very much

The second one was Thrown
And got Blown
Into our very souls

The third one was Born
And was Forewarned
That there would be much pain in his future

And yet he didn't step Down
He got run Down
And died for all of us

This sad story
Shows his pure glory
Because he raised up a second time

He is our Saviour
That taught us good behavior
And I will never stray from him

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem

This Poems Story

My name is Chris and I am fifteen years old. I go to Waterloo Oxford High School and I plan on becoming an architect. My family consists of my mom, Shelia, and my brother, Tommy. My dad passed away a few months ago to a disease called ALS, which slowly eats away the muscle, paralyzing, and then killing the person. My dad, Ed, was a great man, with unbreakable faith in God. I hope to grow up and be at least half the man he was. He was a farmer, even though he had no interest in crops. He planted seeds in people whether they were lessons or just plain acts of kindness and then he watched as God made them grow. He changed a lot of people in his lifetime and I was lucky enough to be his son. He introduced me to God and I don't know where I'd be without him. Poetry was a hard thing to learn in school and sadly most people ended up hating it. I found it interesting however and I took the time to write a poem, a poem about a box and three rocks and a dad that loves me very much.