Mountain Tops


I never liked the mountain tops, staring down at me as I gaze up at them

Seemingly arguing away our day, glaring as we wound around the busy way

Nauseating turns, spinning tales, hidden in the valleys, the cascading rivers

Always in a tussle, to burst free of the bundles wound around my legs, the weight tied around my shoes and a heavy heart

Left and right, wherever I turn, I see the pointed and rounded ends, blocking light, some

There’s always another slope to climb, another fire escape.

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