Rounded Poem by Mark Heathcote

Rounded

Rating: 5.0


To make a pebble rounded
it has-to-be crushed
pounded and carved
there is nothing tender
about it, it must be
tipped on its head
up-ended out of bed
turned in every which way
it doesn't want to go
some may think it crudely
but others shall behold it?
Behold its beauty, logically
knowing it's as rounded-
as anything - and possibly
it will roll with all the punches
of this world until the next
there returned to the sediment
the bedrock of home.

Thursday, June 20, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Bharati Nayak 07 December 2016

To make a pebble rounded It has to be crushed Pounded and carved There is nothing tender About it, it must be Tipped on its head- - - - -Hardships and obstacles make us refined.A wonderful write, thanks for sharing.

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Sranisha Francis 18 September 2015

Turned in every which-way It doesn't want to go.. Yes, it remains in the heart.

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