People rushing, like they're running out of time,
Backwards and forwards, like their life's on the line;
No regard for others, where they want to go -
Moving too fast, while life moves too slow.
No stopping to take in the sounds of the street,
No friendly faces or people to meet;
No breaths of fresh air, or newspaper stands,
Only people on phones, instead of shaking hands.

Beggars on the corner, asking for alms,
Thirteen year olds selling second-hand charms;
Steam from the street food wafts through the air,
If they were not there, nobody would care -
Nobody would notice, no one is concerned,
They've already forgotten, what as children they've learned;
Replaced by a schedule that fills up their hours,
While life on the outside moves slower than ours.

Everyday on my way to work, all I see are people in a hurry to get to their 9 to 5's. Stuck in traffic jams, running after buses or cars. They have just one purpose - to get to where they need to be, regardless of the people around them and how different their version of life is. It makes me realise sometimes that there's more to our lives than the three walls of a cubicle, or the four walls of an office. When I was a kid, I dreamed of more than being walled up in an office. I dreamed of travelling, sharing my creativity with the world and making the people I meet along the way a part of my world as well. I know we all have our dreams. Mine are coming true ... I hope yours do too.