I sit within the stark cold realities of life
For I do not feel…The warmth of a cottage
Or smiles from happy children
Presents do not lie below me…

I desire pieces of love
And popcorn strung with sugar canes…
Though the mortals have passed me by-
And taken away my friends…

I still sit high upon a mountaintop…
Where I can see the world-
I will pretend I’m an eagle with wings…
Or a mountain goat who runs with the wind…

They did not take away my existence
By axing my spirit…
For I still have my soul-
And it lives on for another year…