Stone Collecter Poem by Miss Fairytale

Stones mold around me
As the ocean sweeps
Them into grains and
Erodes this punished beach.

The shells bore me;
They are all the same
In uniform curves and cream.
I prefer stones.
They are in abundance here
It's as though the sky cried them down.

There is not one stone
which looks like another,
Round or flat, some are smooth
Some glitter,
Each is an adventure
Another tear to fill my bucket.

The others don't appreciate
these treasures;
On their shell hunt
They throw stones to the ocean
And laugh at my collection
Because they cannot see
The beauty in imperfection.