The fog is rising over the mountain tops,
Blocking out all the morning sun,
Makes it sometimes hard to see,
The true colours of everyone.

The fog is right in front of my eyes,
It’s blocking out the sun beginning to rise,
Where is the horizon and the shore,
I can’t see my feet on the floor.

The fog is rising as the boat floats,
After rain clouds have started pouring down,
Someday there will be a rainbow,
From tears where we nearly drowned.

Feels like someone got inside my head,
Turned it around and around,
Put one foot in front of the other,
When my head will clear now.

©  Steve Lay

Excerpt form the book “I Have A Name”

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Preface  . . .  

We live in a society whereby there is an astounding…