Climbing...

Climbing, ever climbing, climbing, climbing up this hill.
Sometimes I feel so weak, but I must keep climbing still.
You say, "hey stop climbing, baby, just rest right here with me",
But I can't lose my momentum, I'll turn into a tree.

Slipping, ever slipping, slipping, slipping on this path,
If I take the steep fall back, I'll feel the painful wrath-
Of my spirit all these years; wronged, ignored and spent
And I'll be lost forever, wondering where it is I went.

No, I have to keep on climbing, climbing, climbing and climbing still,
I don't know what lies ahead, and don't think I'll know until,
I crest this mountain, and maybe then I can get a clearer view,
Of where I'm going, what I want, and how you fit in too.

Until then I'm lost for words, except to say, "give me some space",
Solitude and personal peace is what I want to taste.
I can't do that as an acorn in your pocket; nor a tree, you see!
Just let me climb, and climb some more, what I need is to be free.