By Mark Seifert
Copyright Mark Seifert, November 23, 1987.

		I stand atop Olympus,
		as the rain is coming down.
		The wind is cold, inhospitable;
		and it chills me to the bone.	

		I look down to the children;
		some are playing games
		with their friends,
		and some are fighting amongst themselves.	

		We remember a time.
		when all the children played;
		A time when they were happy
		with the simple things of life.

		As things began to change,
		the others turned and walked away.
		I think that sometimes
		they were wrong.

		I know the children needed us,
		and the others, are now right.
		As I turn the collar of my coat up.
		and walk away into the rain, I realize,
		you can never return.