A
Globetrotter

Not for the passport or photos alone,
But to find every place that feels like home.
He walks foreign streets, but it’s more than a trend—
It’s the rush of becoming, again and again.

Each airport departure, a verse in disguise,
Each skyline is a truth that widens his eyes.
He listens to cities, to scents in the breeze,
He gathers the stories the oceans release.

To leave is to learn, to return is to grow—
He travels to stitch what he doesn’t yet know.
No map holds him back, no comfort too tight—
His journey’s a compass that bends toward the light.