Oh silly I’m not a rock!
I’m soft and cushy
If I was a rock I would be in a million pieces, crushed like sand by the feet of life.
Instead I choose flexible and bendy...so the imprints hopefully won't last too long
Only scars can be left, not a ripped limb or an open wound.
Kind of ironic our body our flesh protects our mind...shouldn't it be the other way around?
If our mind came first we could conquer all that is in front of us, we could choose to let the feet of life clear away from our tattered bodies.
Compound, they compound us, the feet, the destroyer.