Poetry

by Pete Holly


Standing on top of the highest moutain-
We still often do not see-the World as a whole-
but still only see me-
Why is hard for us to remain Humble ?
is this an inevitable fate,
That I replaces-We-and only I is Great-

When the clouds rain on Every one-
are there allway's folk's who remain Dry,
This seems to be our forecast-
More of me-our Battle Cry !

Come down into the valley-
So you can see the level Ground-
Will you still be thinking your the only one
Around,
Or could you see a bigger picture-
One that's more inclusive-
and takes into account-
The imbalance of clout-and,
Share with all -You do see