Written by: Terrell Martin

If we wake up contented each day of our lives
fulfilled, successful and satisfied;
With all of our triumphs, laurels and wreathes
from races we’ve won turning bitter to sweet.
If ease of existence is the goal ‘round the bend
and enjoyment of living is feeling chagrined;
At others out working less fortunate than we 
by digging or dancing if it makes them feel free.
To struggle, to yearn, to strive and get burned 
at the stake of each days dealings.
To clamor and climb out of caves in our minds
and reach towards those higher ceilings.
Then count me out of happiness, pleasure, silver spoons;
count me out of the luxury
Of wishing for the moon.  
To shine down on me and all my dreams 
I’ve struggled more or less;
all these years the path I’ve steered 
clear of contentedness.
Take away peaceful feelings, dreamy-
ness in vain.  Give me a mountain 
To climb, a treasure to find 
deep inside my veins.  
I’d rather not know 
contentedness, creeping 
Inside my brain.