Sadness is like the skipping stones thrown into ponds
by little kids searching to steal happiness.
They plummet to the bottom so quickly,
They are so out of place here,
But also so at home.
And they stay there until something is done about them.
Until the Earth swallows them whole again.
I am like the Earth in this sense,
I swallow the stones whole again.
And it hurts.
And it ends in me crying,
Asking why these little kids
threw their stones
into my pond
searching to steal