Don't Move That Stone Poem by Francie Lynch

It's usual when one moves a stone,
There's things there that one finds;
Someone tries selling a car,
To rear-end us and our hind.

Amazing all the deals one's offered-
Insurance to seal us in our coffins;
Stocks to secure our future,
Anything to get our lucre.

The stone can be a pebble,
Inocuous at first glance;
But move it and one finds oneself
Involved in false romance.

Roll a boulder,
Lift a rock, of any make or shine;
Well find someone's beneath our heels-
The blind leading the blind.

The creepy, crawly bottom-feeders,
Are waiting for our kind.