On the sunny grass,
I refuse to count the minutes
And abandon myself into the light
And into this book with potential.
In a cone of rays,
Life seems logical
And nature an expected component,
Fast from the arrogant asphalt
The synthetic smell of rain on the asphalt
Will stay with me today
And remind me of the aggressive civilization
I belong to.
No flowers of green
On the way to work
To greet my struggled motivation.
What went wrong can be fixed,
Feelings of inadequacy
Linger in the air.
The limits of a repetitive and recurrent nature
Are confronted with the infinity of the molecules
Orchestrating a bigger design
As crowded modern cities
Fit in single statistical values.
Find your scale, find your limits,