Mountain
Around every corner there is trouble.
You look up and things begin to crumble.
You feel like you weigh ten thousand pounds.
You hate that horrible sound,
And then you begin to tumble.
You watch as the rocks meet their end.
As they shatter you cringe.
The only thought running through your mind,
Is please be kind Lord please be kind.
You feel like your message never did send.
Then out of thin air,
A hidden branch wrapped through your hair.
As your feet dangle an inch off the ground,
You can no longer hear that horrible sound.
Thank you God thank you for being fair.
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