Stone

On a street long forgotten,
I picked up a stone.
An old stone, I think
I could tell by its wear.
I looked and I wondered,
For how many years,
It had been on this path,
And was left undisturbed.

Had faces passed by,
Homes risen and fell.
Had lives come and gone
As it lay on this spot.
Had time passed it by,
Without causing a change,
Left the stone with no sign
That these ages had passed.

And if I had no sign
Of ages gone past,
I would be like a stone,
Without memories of life.
Without the regrets
Or the joys that are past,
I'd be no more than the stone
Lying silent through time.