So Many Streets And Roadways

So many streets and roadways I've driven up and down Since I left Claraghatlea west of old Millstreet Town And though I live far south of Clara Mountain today The old fields from my thoughts are never far away In Claraghatlea I penned my very first rhyme In the early seventies that is going back in time I thought then that I might grow into a poet A writer of substance one worthy of note Thousands of rhymes and thirty five years later and still a stranger to fame Even on the street I live on few know me by name But I am not unhappy as I have no reason to be For there are billions of people who are worse off than me I've never had to live in a refugee camp as a Stateless refugee And I've never been Homeless and lived in poverty.