Arno River, Firenze, Italia

Arno River, Firenze, Italia

Friday, December 4, 2009

History of the Title.

Sanded Stones

My wandering and broken heart,
flits from rock to rock.
When one crumbles,
I move again,
hoping to discover where I belong
before the scars of the past
prevent me from loving yet again.

Some laugh in my face--
condemn me to stay too long.
But, before my love becomes entwined in passion,
I move,
leaving a trail of sanded stones,
and my own calloused heart.

I wrote this poem in the midst of high school, yet it's amazing how I can still relate to my younger self. My life is indeed a trail of sanded stones. I make mistakes, I get hurt, I stumble more often than I care to admit, but essentially these hard lessons like rough waves have sanded and shaped me into a more independent, stronger, and refined individual.

I never intended to start a blog-- I often don't have much to say. But there is something satisfying about pushing the "Publish Post" button and making my thoughts and feelings, while maybe not understandable, at least heard.

So here is my story, from day to day, of my unending trail of sanded stones.

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