Metaphorical Stones

I lost some along the way,

Some were granite and some were clay,

I lost these stones to my dismay.

 

I thought my pocket was secure,

Oh, but it wasn’t to be sure;

What I had left seemed like the more pure.

 

Most I picked by chance

And some I picked on a glance

And some I knew I’d lose in advance.

 

These pebbles changed with time,

Some grew shiny like a dime

And some began to cover with grime.

 

Some I loved the most fell by the wayside

But some it seems will forever abide,

Yet I look for more because I’m never satisfied.