Looking out of the classroom window I could see
the White Mountain,
looming high above bent necks
and reluctant pens scratching words on paper.

I climbed the mountain to its very summit
and could see a green valley with lakes and streams
full of fish free of restraint and stern teachers
and the dreamy colossus smiled.

The grim teacher awoke me
by smacking my fingers with his ruler
“You will never amount to anything in Life my boy,
you are a dreamer.”

Yes, like my Mountain.
Through tears of hurt
I stole a last glance
Towards my edifice.