Change Is Nature
Life has been trailed by legs many:
White, light, fat, dark, as can be imagined
Leaving stale prints that ploughs a path.
Path new legs feel obliged to pass.
These paths differ with colour, roof and sound
Which many ply without caring, why?
Safe it feels always moving with the crowd
But it’s sad to be dud after a long ride.
People are scared of paths without prints
Since in the head only can it be seen.
Paving a new way always seem strange
But it would make nature create a chain
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