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Prey

I am today

An easy prey

Of big dreams and things i may

Scars of past illusions

Are easily forgotten but still visible.

Fooling myself

I wrote and talk

Planning a future I cannot control.

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Perfection me not

I hate you perfection
That pulls my legs and gives me
A Restless insatiable thinking.
I do not chase nor consider you
As no human can reach you.
He can just claim you
In long loud speeches
of impact to the foolish.

Chair

My brain figuratively sits
On a wooden chair in the back of my head
And stares around
To acknowledge the reality and the dynamics
In front of its feet.
Relaxation comes, as energy at a minimum
Is necessary during the day.

Manuscript zone

The blank manuscript on front of me
Initiate my travel to the zone
Of connections with no turns
And statistical facts with hidden fascinations.
In a line they arrange,
And the tale of this manuscript
Takes shape
To project quantitative results
In the light of passion
And scientific curiosity.

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