The Rolling of a Still Stone 18/2/09

Time passes by me as I'm sitting here
Like a rock that’s stopped rolling now no urge to steer
But still I am moving as moss gathers thick
I grow outward with knowledge as more lichen stick
My surface once smooth is now foul as upset
By this knowledge corrupted with pain and regret
This once unstained boulder as that moss devours
Degrades and forever grows old as I sour