Oh to have a heart of stone,
a rock to call my very own?
For I have a heavy weight upon my mind.
And my head is filled with bricks I find.
For I don’t know what is concrete now,
with little stones that I throw and how,
I build my defenses too high to see across,
while I sink into a basin of moss.
Once hardened mud shiny and worn,
but slippery now with tears as I morn.
Fearful that I have forsaken my happy life
for one now filled with only stony strife.
Gliding over a piazza, my emotions aloft,
wondering how can it be that I am so soft,
to have fallen in an landslide of rock,
and have been pelted, my head knocked.
But it is love they say that is in my cistern,
and it is best that I should have to learn,
that life contains the hardships of many a fall,
that are as natural as mountains of joy so tall.