Neither a mountain nor a hill
Stuck at being someone in between,
Too proud to be a sheep
Nor a hungry wolf or a sly thief,
Maybe a silly shepherd but who knows really
I myself know anything barely.
Perhaps it will be always be the same
Perhaps the future mimics the past forgotten
All I can do is wait and see
Treasure the moment without regret or reprieve
Let my sow slowly grow
And hopefully one day reap without sorrow.