There’s a traveler
Who went far away
Who ran away from everything he ever knew
Who thought he’d find something new

A backpack and a lot of hope
He came back with a couple stories

He said to me;
People laugh and people cry
All in the same way
People love and people hate
All in the same way
People hurt and people heal
All in the same way

From Mumbai to Beirut
Paris to New York
South Africa to Sydney

The language may differ,
The color of our eyes may not be same,
The color of our skin may just as well turn green or blue
The sun may rise at different times

But under skin and bone
We’re all the same

And he looks at me vaguely
For a few seconds quietly
And he asks me,

So why’d you think it’s so hard for us to admit we feel the same