This rock of precious gold,
I found, but never sold;
Means a great deal to me,
The fate untold.
The rock is a sight to see,
Though not a pedigree.
To those who want to know,
Having gold is hard to believe.
Some say, "Not so!"
I say, "Way to go."
They say I'm a freak,
In the end, I go alone.
This rock of precious gold,
I've found, but never sold;
Still means a great deal to me,
It's fate forever remains untold.
YOU ARE READING
This Rock Of Precious Gold
PoetryThis poem is about a rock of gold a traveler found off the side of the road and how he never sold the rock.