Stoned

The Stone lay there,
Alone, dejected and Cold.
Life is Beautiful,
He thought he was Told.

He looked here, he looked there,
He looked all Around.
The eerie silence was killing,
There was not a friendly Sound.


He looked up at his Maker,
Looked up at the Skies.
Why did you make me,
Why did you give me Lies?

Look around you Son,
Said the heavenly Voice,
Life is Easy,
And you have plenty of Choice.

He looked around.

He asked the Green Grass,
Hey, come Play with me.
Replied the Grass, I am busy,
Why can’t you see?

He then looked above,
And asked the old Tree.
The tree groaned,
And said I am not Free.

The Cold Air blew hard,
Like it was getting Late.
I have to run,
I have no time to Wait.

He then went to the River,
And asked Will you play with Me?
I have to rush,
To go and meet the Sea.


Tired, and depressed,
He came back and Cried.
God, I am alone.
To be friends, I tried.

Wait a second,
Somebody is Here.
Maybe he will help me
And wipe out my Tear.

The Small Boy walked down the hill,
Sat near the stone, very Close.
No one plays with me,
He cried and blew his Nose.

The Stone lay there silent,
Watching the sad Boy.
He was the saddest thing he had ever seen,
And at that moment wished he were a Toy.

The Boy looked at the ball,
Threw it away from his hand,
The Stone watched happily,
As on it the ball did Land.

He threw it back to the kid,
A smile appeared on the sad little Thing.
And as he threw it back,
He began to smile and Sing.

The Stone looked up again,
Thank you God for this gift so Grand.
Understood this beautiful thing,
Which they all call A Friend.