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.

Fog

White thick fog surrounds me
In my circular walk
looking for silence and solitude.
My batteries recharge
And the fog reminds me it’s the season of rest.
In the fog I hide my fears, my worries and my inadequacies
as no reason I have to keep them.

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