Sometimes I feel
That we never stop,
On this rollercoaster
We climb to the top,
Then squeal all the way down!
Foolishly,
We start again,
This moving staircase
To ascend,
Without taking a breath or two.
How much of life
Do we really miss,
When climbing a ladder
Just like this?
Is it the really important bits?
I look at my daughter
Fast asleep,
Comfortable
And dreaming deep,
As she has for twenty years
Did I let those years
Just pass me by
As I kept on reaching
For the sky?
What good did that do me?
But she would
Have grown up anyway,
Left our home
To go away.
Find herself — but did I find me?
Perhaps the rollercoaster
Does some good,
Keeps our mind ticking over
The way that it should.
Without that constant journey
Up and down…..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem