The First Weapon Was A Rock Poem by Joseph M Donatelli

It began with a thrown stone the size
Of the hand that hefted and weighed it
Then with a side arm swing let go
In the direction of the animal he aimed at
One rock one throw one killing blow
A hunter was born who fed a family well
Long before the spear was crooked wood
A rounded rock from the stream bed could

His teratory was where he stood hard squat
Dressed in skins legs spread defiant apart
In front of the woman his stout heart stays
Protecting the children from men or prey
With a round rock the size of a Fist to say
Threaten my family and it's your last day
White gray red black a shattering whack
Dispersed human prey and animal pack

Terror weapons of apathetic egoists flock
To sadist who kill for a glorious trot
Yet the first weapon a river rolled rock
Thrown with percisssion at thirty yards shocked
Smashing the skull of a danger or dinner
The hunter found necessary to death crock
When the first weapon was a fist size rock
It's purpose was protection of the genetic stock