From home I see the tops of rocky hills
where younger days sent running feet to play
among the boulders strewn, there were no bills
to pay the one who made them. Now today
I dream of wildness once explored when life
was simple; mornings promised freedom’s game
not fear. But now I find it full of strife.
What madness drives a people so insane?
I’d rather dream a world where all were free,
where no one slept or woke to sounds of war,
a world of reason, one in harmony
with every voice, a place of peace and more.

I think it really has to start with me.
Or otherwise it may not come to be.