Like the turning of the pages, we are only changed by the ink formed in words.
When the world lights up, we move through the streets crowded with people.
No one sees our face, only that we don’t belong.
Where do we go? Have we lost home?
Or are we finding a new way.
The way it should be.
Have we forgotten who we are? Is that a bad thing?
Or are we just happy.
Happy to be alive. Let’s stay young as we grow old like this feeling will stay with us wherever we go.
And then and only then will we know what life is for when we’re gray, unable to move the way we do now.
Baby, it’s a dance.
So let’s not do it solo.