Summit

I could get no higher.

Then that summit that we climbed.

I swear there was a choir

Singing joys and words of kind.

There were trials, tribulations.

There was blue and fresh clean air.

Like some drug induced sensations.

No more need to stand and stare.

All over but the crying.

Now is the time to say so long.

I just got sick of trying.

It’s not the singer, it’s the song.

Dennis Mantin

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