foreign thoughts

when you stand in new streets,
gaze upon foreign colored skin,
hear a language different than your own,
and witness another way of life,
you assume there is a great difference between you and them

everything on the outside, appears to be different,
but after you stop and converse, hear their story,
their struggles, what they hope for

see a little deeper under their skin,

you realize
we are all the same

the language we speak,
the color of our hair,
the land by which we call home...

none of it really matters,
the further you go

travel enough and you see:

no matter where you go in the world,
people are still people.