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The Walker, The Watcher

Sitting and watching,
the lost art.
Disappear without a sound,
the night turns dark.

You must get up,
do something,
make the most of your time.
Be productive, get moving
build, design.
And don’t you dare take a step back,
to look at where we are heading.
In a few years you’ll be gone anyway,
no use fretting.

So just keep walking alone;
one hand in pocket, one holding a phone.
And keep strolling,
peering down, into the unknown.
In a few years you’ll be gone anyway.

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