Fast and straight it climbs the mountain
With the lord nose being its motor
And the admiring faces its cargo.
The little train knows its way,
On the tract that forbidden to humans,
And its personality is antique and unique,
yet home to the roaming foreigners.
The next station has been called
Once again in this familiar train.
The journey is however different
With a summary of this local world
On the silent pale faces
And the black dogs
Sleeping dreamy below bikes full of desert dust.
Communication is a word understood
Buy all but always in a personal way.
I thrive for communicating smartly
And you lose yourself in intro and acknowledgments,
Slowly building distance and disrespect.
The air gets dense
and the faces tense in masked attention.
Small icons summarize my feelings
In strings of text
My complex emotions
are condensed in a single character
In an instant
While the time spent to process them
Becomes the real value.