Cells and numbers arrange
In a logic reserved to few
And drawing lines
The future is shaped
By those commas and exponentials
And from the numbers,
An innovative way of stepping comes.
My lips cannot pronounce
The impact of these numbers
But only imagine it and suggest it
With metaphors and little confidence.
Numbers talk to me
And they swirl into a portray of our future
That hardly graphics can describe.
I am thrilled
By the pursuance of your support
And your clear reading of reality.
Trying not to personally analyse
The surrounding actors,
I guard my core
Behind a little golden fence
Prescribe me that tablet
That silences the worries
and flattens all shades to grey.
I will hide the what makes people different
And paint them all pink
To provoke me smile in the tedious morning.
I will sometimes give them features
And dots will appear making them artists from the circus.
My life to amuse and surprise
While the world is slowly entertaining me.
Young woman with a sculptured character
You Prevent me from running blindly
Towards a mirage with a blurred profile
And from grabbing with direct hands my illusions.
You keep me connected
To the world of decisions and actions
Where perfection is unnecessary
And purposes are valuable.
The days are crowded and futile
But remember to carry your lens
In your personal pocket.
Search the details that hide in the folds
And under the shoes
But define those who think
and appreciate the moments like you do.
Through your lens
Your partners, friends, and lovers
Will shine like under falling frozen snow
And you can get closer with confidence.
Your words tell me successes
And bravery to launch your career
Despite the critics.
But I can read you.
Your hands tell me fear of the future
And confidence threatened by the established opinions.
I will hold your hand for free,
Not sure if you would return the favour.
Unknown to me is
How to timidly proceed
When the others shout
And raise themselves to priority.
Impressive to me is
The presumption of the young boys
Who seek a creation of wisdom
Wasteful to me is
The wise silence of the experienced
Who watch and think
While the situation resolves itself.