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Forgotten
From hands of Greats, I’m flung to find
reasons for all those whom resigned.
I know that few in time define
a skipping stone with pure design.
I wish I was a skipping stone,
upon the brilliant pond of mind;
I’d sparkle, skip, and sail alone
upon lagoon my talent thrown.
I have admired stones that skip
across the pond with softer clip;
Instead of those that splash and flip
those quick to dive are damned to slip.
Some Greatness runs in some alone
the brilliant mind is one unknown
despite the bounce and rippling tone
we sink no matter how we’re thrown.
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