I look at these people who are living my life.

I hate them and admire them, all the same.

They're roaming the world with their spirit so free.

They're touching the sky with their feet.

Will I ever be what I dream of being?

Or will I allow myself to stay captive to normality?

A starving artist but a happy soul

A photographer with a smile

A writer with a poem about the world

I've got to reach for the stars

I can't let my soul commit suicide

By never living its dreams

Whats so bad about wanting to see new things

And experiencing what's out there for me

It makes me cry to think that my eyes may never capture

The beautiful view of the many things that my heart yearns for

And that I may never step foot in the few places,

That I just want to see for myself.

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