More Than A Gift

The rock I chose had a nice smooth tone Once I held it in my hand I saw scratches and imperfections At first I was dissapointed This small stone ws not my first expectations As I handled the pebble It became heated The corner of my desk is where it seated I notice that my little rock is just my projection The decieving appearance The scratched in mistakes A want to be touched And the ability to be lost Looking about the room Smal stones clank and move Peers have possession Is it also their confession?