Like, really looked around,
Head up, mind quiet, eyes searching deeply,
For what's there to be found,
A chip on a brick, books on window sills,
A bird's nest on the ground,
Intricate descriptions in a poem,
Then close your eyes for touch, taste, feel and sound,
You will find a new world waiting for you,
Well, new is not the word,
A neglected landscape e'er always there, With secrets to be heard,
To change your life,
All you've left do is strive,
Turn off the autopilot that's your life,
Hands on wheel, foot on the pedal, now drive.
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