A QUESTION OF CHOICE

A QUESTION OF CHOICE

A QUESTION OF CHOICE

I am a mountain
I laugh with those who laugh loudest
I’ve been a church
Seen them come
Of different ages, sizes, colours
Black, white, yellow, red and pink

A walk in and walk out
By the rich and the destitute

I have been beaten
Spat at, kicked and raped
My brain is a cold room
That stores torturous secrets
My flesh is like a football
Kicked all the way round

I am a balancing rock
Having survived all weather
A resting place for peace-loving birds
I live the way I believe
Because l have a strong will