The photograph

To the streets I go, no one been, 

To the paths I choose, no one seen, 

To the waters untouched, 

To the mountains unexplored, 

To the heart unloved, 

To the soul unfed, 

To the heat, I yell, 

To the breeze, I spell, 

To thank it for having me, 

To get away from this hell, 

To the moment that is gone, 

To the world, we have shown, 

To the mind that’s grown, 

To the seed of travel now sown, 

To the photograph I found, 

To those bare feet on the ground, 

To the beauty that surrounds, 

To the stranger that was around, 

To the moment we forget, 

To the high that we get, 

To the narrative that we have set, 

To the uncertainties that they were bet. 

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