My Way
When I go to my mountain
and feel the world below,
I feel my people closer,
Closer than you know.
*******
Listen…
There is a mountain in my life,
that I love so very well,
and it makes me think of
So many things to tell.
*********
A bunch of people running round,
making lots of bread,
and screaming don’t be mercenary,
That’s something that I dread.
********
And they drive their fancy cars
And build their homes so big,
They fight to better one another,
But only make me sick.
*******
Is happiness a trip abroad,
A swimming pool or yacht?
Can happiness be bought and sold?
O God, I sure hope not!
********
I only own a mountain,
where I can sit and stare
about the people down below,
For whom I really care.
******
Is it bad to be alone
and let it all flow by?
Or should you share it all around,
Making other people cry?
*******
And so I go to my mountain
and talk to my trees,
watching the lights below me,
I cry on bended knees
********
BN – 1964 – Aged 14
