I am but a pebble in your hand.
How easily could you cast me away
And instantly forget every memory you had of me?
Would I not blend with the other pebbles, stones, and rocks?
Would I not become only an insignificant addition to the scenery?
Oh, but I would.
Because a hand such as yours has held many pebbles, stones, and rocks.
And a hand such as yours has grown tired of holding each after so short a time.
Pebbles such as I need hands such as yours.
Pebbles such as I are looked upon fondly but always cast aside.
So as long as your hand is open for a pebble such as I,
I will look upon you as fondly as I look upon the stars
Because I am but a pebble in your hand.