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Squeaky chair

I open my eyes and stand up,

I walk and almost run,

I jump and almost fall on this late train.

I cared for my clothes and my hair,

I feed my colleagues and cheer my boss,

Yet my chair is squeaky,

But I will not sit for long.

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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.

Horizon hold

Now you can see me
And include me in your plans
Of succulent dinners and unreachable offices.
I will embrace your plan,
Obscure and personal,
Until we stand on a higher rock
And I will see what the horizon holds.

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