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.