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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Winter darkness

What tickles my mind

in this dark winter day?

Worries of career, fears of loneliness

This undetermined future of ours

Join forces and seed doubts.

I drop my anchor

In the small achievements in my wallet

And those tiny ideas shining in the dark.

Yellow bench

Yellow and empty,
The bench stares at the sun alone.
It waits nonstop for a purpose
And yet it is playing its role.

Rice space

My blood rushes and my lips distend
At the thought of new chapter.
Few pages are created naïve,
Blank and open.
Sentences drop like rice grains
Leaving tiny marks
Forever.

White future

White hair between my fingers
And apparent on my mind,
Signal the time and story I have crossed.
Natural and unprecedented feathers
That take me to that next for of life
I am longing for,
Since a child.

Overdressed work

I march unnaturally
And the strength is artificial
When fighting is not a choice
but the only solution.
I March stiff and serious
For what will come through the door
And not only my body will be overdressed,
Yet judged.

Crossing doors

I always make sure
That a bridge is in sight
Or a door in proximity.
Few objects can guarantee you
An opportunity today
And the second road
looks always sunnier.