Self-Worth
A rock on the river sits
Collecting moss, tufts, and weeds
As others moved by a torrent
To unknown shore from a distant
A rock, I am, in that sense -
Of self-value - what have I missed?
Than a new flow passing by
Under the arms of its stream
Each bathes of sunrise and sunsets
Clueless mornings of muddled clouds
Or a cascade of moonrise
I'm unmoved without self-pity
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
Added by Poetry Lover
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