not a rock but tank encrusted with the dirt of

too many feet pushing it down into the earth

leaving it lonely

no past. Just new fingers questing downwards
new beginnings made from newer hands that care
not to say that the other hands didn't care
how it came to be here.
The little boy who unwittingly passed this down
Probably forgot his sorrow.
The sorrow to make this new boy happy.
To wonder if.
Somebody else.
Actually. Cared.
And they did, but he can't touch it. just the tank.

-Matt