My zone

Like a panoramic balcony

Or a fast black bike,

My zone fits me.

Pins my feet down and my fingers up,

While my thoughts travel and evolve

Planning my version of my future.

It has a fresh breeze

Even when indoor

And always has a START sign.

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Train catcher

Rushing to the train
Is an art on its own
That only with intelligence you can master.
Quick and instinctive my steps
used to accelerate behind the illusion
Of being the first.
I was crashed and let alone on the track.
I learnt too appreciate each step
That with consciousness I stamp on the ground
And can guide myself faster to the station.

Revenge will

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

Protein dance

Sitting in the train
My body moves fast and crosses landscapes of unique beauty
Yet my thoughts are childish.
Proteins dance in my mind
In choreographies resulting in creative applications.
In a line they are a sensor,
Holding hands they foam in a cappuccino
in a circle they are in a brilliant paint
But always making our life more beautiful.
The beauty of proteins cannot be stopped.

Migrating every day

Ducks migrate all together
Outside my window.
Remind me of a direction you can only feel
Inside
And an arrival you approach
But might never see.
Eating all together, sleeping all together,
And traveling as a single with others
Towards that destination
Behind the clouds
that you see for the first time.