Can our footprints ever be erased?
Or our handprints replaced?
What about our fingers, those identifiers
Point out our whereabouts, call us liars.
Will we free to redecide
Our histories and hopes and pride?
Will our footprints give us away
Every single yesterday?
When timeless ages have come and gone
Haunted empty halls will yawn
As dust collects, uneven little hints
Are left by human prints
We’re free to travel, free to die
Left to swim and walk and stand
Home no more, the youngest of us cry
As we go on, beneath the exile’s brand
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