The hill was steep upto the Ashton memorial
At 5 am iI was wondering why I was walking up
The hill. I rarely stopped to think in those
Long-gone days, just what I did was what came
'Natural'. I hought of my friends as permanent
Features in my life. Time would tell me that was
Not right. Those with money and charisma would
Be successful. The rest of us would struggle. I'd
Rather struggle but I was more than a bit unusual.
My only regret was one lovely Indian lady offered
To be my friend and I was too stoned or cowardly
To realise the sacrifice that she was making for me
It cost her the whole of her life. And I never thought
That I contributed towards her enduring disappointment
I do now.