Pebbles
Eroded away from the family,
and the rock-solid mother,
broken to smaller pieces,
ground and detached…..
still,
making ripples on the river!
Pebbles,
grey, brown
or are they black?
living independent,
of their source.
making a newer sink,
with every applied force.
They travel around,
See new places,
Discover unknown lands.
They whisper to the skies,
in their darker nights,
astonishment or loss!
I like pebbles,
They mould as per friction,
or know how to adjust!
I love pebbles,
because they believe,
in their strength of togetherness.
Unlike me,
who is away,
detached,
disapproved,
deprived,
and getting depleted
with every experience!
Tanzila
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