He was an engraved rock
whose story's words were well worn.
At her heart's door not once did he again knock.
Many a time, the murky depths of a young heart did scorn
the one that threw her heart away.
She grew slowly strong but surely sound
as a young girl should,
but the stone still lay half-buried in the ground.
She wondered if she ever would
be free from the words engraved there.
On the stone, a story that none wished to see nor tell,
bits and pieces of the writing soon faded.
All that was left was the yearning that she couldn't quite quell.
She grasped the hand of many a hand jaded
searching for something just out of reach.
