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.
You are heavy and rich
Of a world that absorbs me
And to which my imagination is deeply attracted
At Any minute of the day.
The story is hanging
And the characters incomplete.
By reading, I fill them with me life
And complete them.
Pinky fingertips of mine,
Who translate those windy thoughts
Into paragraphs of inspiration,
Hold me closer, please.
A day of difficult communication is ending
And another one will drain my blood
tomorrow.
Pink and gentle,
You represent me to the world.
Suspend your judgement,
Not every day has a lesson at the end.
Learn to hang and just observe the scene,
Remembering only what feeds you.
It gives you a basis
for evolving tomorrow
Into a strong person
With a red book
full of short views
Always there to restart from.
