Rocks

Like heavy moral loads they will tumble to the ground if they are violently disturbed,
But, unperturbed, they continue to exist - their broken pieces taking on new forms,
Rocks, like a mind, can seem heavy at times,
And like a head, sometimes they feel heavier than you can bare to lift from rest,

Rocks will give a person something to hang onto, to prevent them from drowning,
Sometimes the rock is also at risk of sinking but it remains silent, unprotesting,
Sometimes they carry fossils; remnants of what used to be - like memories,
On the surface only faint lines can be seen, like lines on skin

Rocks, when hurled into the water, will make a ripple before sinking
-a small mark of protest for a large fall that will not unsettle the world for long,
Rocks have many layers; each layer with a different history, each layer with a different strength,
Some rocks will be geodes; seemingly dull on the outside but once cracked will reveal a sparkling core,

Rocks appear dark in some environments and light in others,
Apart from this they are solid and unchanging

They will remain at the place they have been designated whatever the consequences for them,
They will remain throughout volcanic erruptions and earthquakes,
They will remain even if all that's left is shattered pieces

Rocks are rigid but they will be changed,
Change just takes time,
Slowly eroded, rocks are affected by the tears and rain,
This can't be visibly seen at the moment it is occuring so people take no notice

You said I was a rock. I think that's true.