A small post-it can hardly contain
The emotions you transmit
With your disappointed eyes
And needy body.
I will write you a sentence
And it will give only a direction
for the future, as the present is nothing
Shying away from the heat of the day,
we all slowly gather in the corner
Like old friends
We tell the personal lesson
that we learnt today.
Like Brownish snails
with a load of wisdom,
We hide and secretly plan,
Dreaming and building
A new life to come.
Routine and curiosity killed the cat.
After shouting questions falling in thin air
And donating uniqueness to a future not his,
The wise woman sits still and observes the decline.
A million scenarios run through his head
Some fascinating, some of no effort
And tickle his will of revenge
Knees at the chest,
Facing the first sun
While the hunting thoughts of the night
Another today starts
And with open arms
I welcome its schedules
But long for its situations of apparent impossibility
Where my mind is lit and
Rushed to a personal solution.
Another year left to the wind
To reach the land
After the mountains.
Time is a bike
That takes you and drops you off
When you feel safe and in charge.