River Stone

Smooth, and pleasant to feel.
Solid and simple, cold as steel.
Born of patience and time,
Worn to a round smooth shine.
Old and forgotten under the fast moving river,
standing still, except for a quick shiver,
in response to an ever rising and sinking tide,
now the rivers dry and reveal all that were inside.
Left out in the sun now, half to see it once more,
and half to suffer the unnamed score.
The marker of success in all things here,
how long one can last under a whole new fear.
A fear of change, a fear of heart.
And fear of all things that pull you apart.
Left alone now the stone heats under the crushing sun.
Fearing now, it's journey is done.