I once knew a hill
that was quite a big deal
For he was becoming a mountain
Oh yes his growth came out like a fountain
Although quite small
He would soon be tall
Even as his height increased
He felt happy none the least
For he wanted to be as the plain
Thorough and all the same.
Little did the mountain know
The plain was not happy down below
But instead he felt quite dead
For he would rather grow instead
Nobodys happy with their own life
It always causes quite some strife
If only the grass isn't greener on the other side
I think our gratitude needs to be reapplied
We should be happy with who we are
Otherwise we won't go far.