Wasted Time

July 26, 2008
By Tristan Ashe, Palmer, MA

The waves of an ocean,
crashing on the shore.
Rocky mountains ask no questions.
The secrets of the caving rock,
are not but secrets at all.
To the frost of the grass are whispers of timeless end not but whispers,
But mere secrets of crumbled mountain tops, unwanted by the world.
Fossils are but ancient lives of a secret world the ocean and mountain tops keep together.
For what is an ancient beauty?
Ay, a secret life of wonder.
The ocean washes it away, but the mountains are a book of unknown nowledge left behind.
For every stone is a secret, every rain of sand another world.



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