Glass House Happy Hour

 

 

we piled our rocks by the door

tangible pieces of ourselves- to collect

and show us when we woke

the next day, that

we were still here

 

many lugged boulders

some brought small skipping stones

i threw pebbles into the heap

hoping to be under-estimated

 

my pebbles rolled through the

cracks and fell, between

stones and boulders

 

and i suddenly know

how it feels to be

overwhelmed

 

Reviews

[D.R. Wilsey Jr.]

I've read a few of your pieces so far and I must say you have an excellent way with your words. Simple and to the point but filled with depths of emotion and honesty. A pleasure to read.

[roarke]

We're known by the stones we throw. Underestimated indeed.
Happy Hour isn't always happy. Thanks for an original perspective.

[Ladysue]

wow, this was so good. I love how you conveyed this. Very cleverly done...

[Restlesslittlesoul]

SO moving!

That is all I can say for now.

*A deep sigh*

[FocusedAmnesia]

I really like the concept of this. The boulders, skipping stones, and you as pebbles. I like the format and where you break each line. It flows nicely and was a great read.

[Jibey]

Neat idea... cleverly written... simple but perceptive