Pebble Poem by Dorothy Taylor

Pebbles are young and smooth.
Pebbles are soft and warm.
Pebbles are gleaming orbs of life.
Funny how I see stones like happy humans,
when the pebble is here to destroy.
Crack through the calm water and ripple, torrents through serenity.
Crack holes in windshield, tossed by the strong arm of rebellion.
Crack panes of glass, mistake by misfortune.
Crack my soul, into shards of glass that will be too dull to cut.
Please, don't throw that pebble.
The fragile soul feels all.