Rock (A dramatic reading)
Ahem.
My name is Maud.
This is a poem about a rock.
It is called Rock.
All my poems are called Rock.
...
Because they're about rocks.
Rock.
You are cold, like a rock.
You are a cold rock.
You are grey, like a rock.
Rocks are grey.
You are a grey rock.
Rock.
You are a stone's throw away from being gone.
Gone away.
Because you are a stone.
Rocks are stones.
Don't go away, Rock.
Stay in your box.
In your rock box in my pocket.
A pocket rock.
Rock.
You are a mystery, Rock.
You sit in stony silence,
Saying nothing.
Because you are a rock.
And rocks can't talk.
Rock.
You are a rock.
Rock.
Thank you.
"Thank you" is not the last line of the poem.
The last line was "Rock." Because it's a poem
About rocks.
Thank you.
Rock rock rocky rock rock'd rockety rock rock. Rock rocky rockrock.
4229633 Finally, somepony who gets it.
*ahem* Rocked it!
This is actually pretty good poetry.
Dangit, now I have a '50s rock 'n roll song stuck in my head because of this.