In Portugal Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

In Portugal
I've got to meditate
On my sunbed in spring
I'm alive, I'm not dead
I've paid my fare, my dues
And I no longer care
For other people's joy or sorrow
They can all jump in the lake
They can all love or hate me
I don't care
I've dealt with all my regrets
And I've got a few more than you
I do believe
I've got a few still in their infancy
Singing the blues
Remembering how dear you were
Once in my eyes
With tears even now breaking through
Sunbathing by a tepid hotel pool
With a beautiful view
I don't care
If I'm loved or hated
I'll be happy or miserable anywhere
Just as I choose, kicking off my shoes
Picking my nose,
Wearing threadbare clothes because
They're comfortable, so what the hell
I'm in Portugal
And I've got to meditate
On my sunbed in spring
I'm alive, I'm not dead
I've paid my fare, my dues
And I no longer care
For other people's joy or sorrow
I don't mind being alone
But darling, I still love looking in your eyes
When they're happy looking at me
But if they're not, I don't care
Because I've got me
And I'm alright alone.