A Less-Than-Promising Fate Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

Let's go to the top of the mountain.
Let's leap off into those distant clouds.
Let Mum and Dad and all the townsmen,
Come and search the hilltops and hedgerows.

Let us explore and leave our breadcrumbs.
Like Hansel and Gretel, outwitting
A witch let us leave our city slums.
With willow sticks and string, let's go fishing.

And find a vase full of precious stones.
Enough treasure gems to live our dreams.
Let us leave these grey old cobblestones;
Our parents: our teachers' cruel regimes.

Let us go now and fulfil our destiny.
Or forever be lambs at the gate
That never swings open heavenly,
Head home to a less-than-promising fate.