I stop where i’m standing looking around,

What is this madness born to us all.?

Leaving my work, my home, and the things known to me,

Go away to a place up high, way back in the hills.

There are no people of judgement to listen to,

The loud sounds of tragedy lost in my travel.

There is no anger or the struggle to survive,

Out here only nature to hear me cry.

Leaving it all behind,

The life that was once mine.

Keith Garrett