Someone has to ask, is this
Nothing but a game to you?
Have you noticed, in this circle of sad songs,
There's only one composer with a dry eye
All you seem to want to do is help,
but here we are atop this mountain,
And we can't tell if your
Cracked, broken voice is a ruse -
Is it any wonder
We dubbed you a monster,
The only one in control
At all the wrong moments -
Can't you lend us some of your
Stone-faced, clear mind
So that next time we break,
No-one can see it,
Can you help us be more like him?
I found this in my book with no date or title, I wrote it several months ago. As far as I remember though, the "him" it refers to later turned out to not be nearly as "tough" or "stone-faced" as I thought when I first wrote it. The power of hindsight, I suppose.
The title comes from where I was when I wrote it, on the Kokoda track last year.