Molehills out of Mountains

Climbing up the steep tall mountain,

I pant for breath, I’m desperate.

The guys in front, laughing somehow...

They have the breath to speak?

I don’t who, where, what, or why,

I’m here, but I will reach the top.

Sadly, anything is clearer than the top.

The trees, they jeer at me, and speak,

“look at these *Gringos, they’re desperate.”

Again, I question the reason why,

I didn’t take the bus up the mountain,

I did make a decision somehow!

I’d gotten up at three, somehow,

no answer for my roommate’s pleas, “why?”

I was barely able to speak

myself, as we walked to the base of the mountain.

In the gloom, you could barely see the top,

stars shone, we’d searched for patterns, desperately.

We’d searched for excuses, desperate.

As if we can get home somehow.

But home’s far away, and what’s close is the mountain,

And we’d started our quest for the top.

Easy chatter had dwindled, our ability to speak,

our only thought was “why?”

It haunted me, this “why oh why?!”

As we ascended this evil mountain.

But slowly we start getting close to the top,

and I get even more and more desperate.

It’s different now, better though somehow,

I’m regaining the ability to speak.

I try it now, I try to speak.

I’m reaching for the top...

The crest is here, I see the why,

“I can climb a mountain, I will somehow.”

I stand up, shake of my desperate,

my fear, because I climbed the mountain.

“I reached the top!” I cry out, I’m even the first girl somehow...

I can now speak, I scream, “yes,” my yes so desperate

to be heard, my why, my “I did it, I climbed a mountain.