The Photographer

He captures as he sees it,
a click and the world is in his palms,,
a glimpse of happiness, a touch of grief,
roaring storms and pacifying calms.

He's just an observer,
starking true to his job,
he grasps the world he lives in,
doorman of truth holding door's knobs.

Holding mystery of oceans,
the vastness of sky,
he prowls for concealed emotions,
not once he asks why.

Lives on prints of paper,
eyes singing soul's songs,
he cannot stop to share glee
or gloom, for he must go clicking along.