Bright Friday

The grey sky is only a cover

Of a day with no written plot

And no established ending.

A coffee, a cookie, a smile

Recharge and push towards the first step

Of the adventure sitting on top of these stairs

And the ideas of writing a book,

Applying to advanced jobs,

And Change lifestyle from today

Materialize and become family.

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Good news

Like a blinded moth
I spin around in the middle air
Turning turning with no way to stop.
The excitement captured me
And I live the moment
With its silly giggles and ambitious prospects
For the future.

Fire adventure

There is something beside me
slapping my confidence away
And pouring water on my ambition.
The flame needs cuddles and soft hands
To rise vivid in the adventure
That each day has become.

Big ideas, small hands

I am a speckle of dust
Filled with ambition and clear thinking
Shivering its small size.
How to translate what is boiling in me
Into a recipe and a spoon
To feed the curious world?

Academia hunting

Hard and strong like a Kernel
In the stream of the competition
That science has become.
Floating or settling
Talking or observing
I learn to alternate the powers
While the target slowly fades.