I am a kid that never grew up,
never could do chores on my own,
dreams are gone, now empty cup,
peace at last, no skill to be shown;
now saw out of my safe glass house,
true love and joy, where no money was,
daily gather, simple feast, without grouse,
here grand dinner alone, what profit or loss;
yet he wants here, I want there,
all want money, bull or bear,
please hear, after life’s wear and tear,
won’t count money, rather your cheer;
don’t heed him, it is a poor wolf’s cry,
smile a lot, laugh aloud and hold high.
Solitary Wanderer 