A Riddle(poem) It has been awhile since I posted...here goes
My skin is made of slate and stone with crevices deep to the bone. I'm not a bird but have a beak - a caricature so to speak. Aged from the beginning I am told even as a baby I'm looking old. Shriveled, wrinkled and moving slow I pace myself to reach my goal. I'm not a snail that carries a pack but... Sign in to see full entry.