Wonderful creatures

I want to sleep. 

I want to smile.

I want to cry.

I want to laugh.

I want to be angry.

I want to grin widely.

I want to show my teeth.

I want to show my dimples.

I want to breathe.

But, I can't.

I am not a human.

I am a stone. 

I have no life.

No existence.

No meaning.

No purpose.

No value.

Merely dragging along my body.

Here and  there, back and fro.

Oh, human beings!

What beautiful creatures they are indeed!

Each one so unique, so fascinating!

Ah, it's all my fantasy dream,

To be one of them.

They are extraordinary creatures.

God's greatest creations come to life!

Oh, so precious. So beautiful and intricate.

It's good enough for me to look at them.

I hope they know,

That there are some out there,

Who acknowledge that they are indeed,

Wonderful creatures.

Reviews

[Maglia Weaver Twill]

I want to be this rock, well this is a beautiful tension here created. I want to be do feel all those things in the first stanza too and feel too that I myself am a stone, but let me beware of letting these rocks cry out, a very sentinel, I shudder to use these same words how "pretty" too, or too creative becomes a counter imposition to our cleaner realms of expression in these above lines, how they are clear grammatically and are not chained to rhyme and given so freely, from me you will receive only praise today (my dwelling place finds me revelatory)