| This poem is by my aunt Peggy. I was standing on the mountain top looking wistfully at the view. All the time that I was standing there, all I could think of was you. Why you stood for rejection? Why you could reach out and touch my soul? Why you made such an impression I will never know. Why all the ironism? Why are you made of steel? Why don't you know my feelings, is it that you just don't care? I've heard love is good, I've heard it can be sweet. But it's hard to feel the sunlight When you are under someone's feet. |