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.

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Anger for you

A fire, sudden like fever,
Is lit in response
To your little respect
And gratuitous lessons.
I know my business,
I know arrogant people,
I am learning self respect,
I know a No hidden behind a stream of words.

Solo thinking

I am Made stupid by the competition
And the painful comparison
With people by the different talents.
Freedom is in the solo thinking
And in the attention and consideration
For yourself.

Moving on

You tell me to move on
Without complaining
Not to ruin the image of your reality.
I will step out
But my opinions are sacred,
Laid in a basket inside me,
And they will be written if not told.
Reality passes quietly and silent
and I needed time to give a name
to all the happenings.
I hate labels but they give the right words
to tell the story
I do not want to forget.

Window

Tired
Of hearing the’ you can do it’
The’ women can do everything’
But have to struggle more.
Annoyed
By those who give it for granted
And just enjoy your result
Laying on their desk.
Running
Among the comments and assumptions
For my present and my future.
Happy
Of leaving the window a bit open
And enjoying the fresh wind of opportunities.

Monday 2

I take a walk
And hope it lasts so long
As Monday is quickly coming
And I am not ready
For its routine and vanity.
Corner after corner
I prolong this escape
And enough fresh air sinks in
To survive the shock of tomorrow.

Perspective

Looking from far
Makes all people small
And turns problems into dark speckles
While giving hope to the tired heart.

Slope

Standing on a steep slope
Makes your muscles tense
And your mind alert
Yet the direction to take is unclear
And certainly tiring.
Looking down into the ease,
The fear of a quick trip to disengagement
Sets in.
Looking up into the unknown,
Tickles my neurons and starts a small blue flame,
But the climb will make my body sore.

Water

My eyes have become lazy
Scrutinizing the day
for a glimpse of the future.
Active streams and imaginary flights
It is a hard job with sweaty palms
bringing the lost stream
To an inner silent spring.

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