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wrote this for my friend at 5 am, so its pretty rough, but hey, shit happens, then you die.

A current carved through canyons
was the work of me
I’ve far too many stories
involving apple trees
germs and evolution,
like me: only a theory,
and I won’t weigh you down,
but I’ll caress your mass
the feather and the stone
were never meant to pass

I’ll never hold a hand,
but I can bounce a ball
I topple trees and tyrants,
no matter large or small
what am I?