Slow rise

The sun rises slow

And weak

In the cold mornings of walking solo.

My desk awaits me,

My family demands a warm hand,

My time is split

With sorrow and pride.

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Urban travel

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.

Portray forever

Fluffy and curly behind the screen
My hair reveal my presence.
What characterizes each of us
Is out of our control
As the feelings we instill in our friends.
Awe, respect, for empathy
Are born in a millisecond
But linger and build the portray we remember
Of those who influence us.

To my friends

Trust as a medal pinned to the chest
To symbolize the hardest of the conquests.
A selection of persons
Worth a clean intention
And a clear will.
Those who choose the straight path in the field
That nobody is walking
And make a new path for all.
Those who taste spicy food
With trepidation and a laugh bursts.
Those who don’t talk
But tell the must important story.
Those who live far
But are always with me.