I have been thinking about the poem Women only and how strong is the last verse. It turned into a badge by itself, almost!
Advertisements
Tag: women
I have been thinking about the poem Women only and how strong is the last verse. It turned into a badge by itself, almost!
Women are good
To turn bitter lemons into nectar
When the wind blows strong.
When others run,
They adapt.
They are the glue,
Invisible, yet necessary.
They bind and grab,
They soothe and position,
They give purpose
In any brittle world.
I have been thinking about the poem Women only and how strong is the last verse. It turned into a badge by itself, almost!
I have been thinking about the poem Women only and how strong is the last verse. It turned into a badge by itself, almost!
The love out there
Waves and giggles like a child
In my direction.
Am I too old for success?
Am I too workaholic too be hugged?
I am balanced
In this work-life edge.
Drop by drop,
I dissolve in this bitter routine.
What holds me and tries to stop me
Must be behind my back.
I cannot see your face
And fight You
With all my wisdom.
Compassion and kindness,
Fairness and sympathy are my code of ethics
To slalom in life away.
Hard to please, hard to self affirm,
Hard to smile meanwhile.
I mix my dreams with my loved ones
And try to paint a picture of harmony.
Work and life,
Food and acceptance,
Love and ambition,
Balance and moving forward
Delimit my way.
Rested and conscious
I horizontally review the conversation
And its flaws hurt my brain.
Standing arrogant men
With heavier opinions
Suck up your time and words politely
Pushing you to the path of failure.
The word of the day is long and winding
As a whole life travel can be.
I am climbing this Everest in flip-flop
And years have passed
And yet I am restarting
to educate the old new new people
I hate.
There is something beside me
slapping my confidence away
And pouring water on my ambition.
The flame needs cuddles and soft hands
To rise vivid in the adventure
That each day has become.
slapping my confidence away
And pouring water on my ambition.
The flame needs cuddles and soft hands
To rise vivid in the adventure
That each day has become.
Grown to become
The octopus of life
Juggling the objects that keep a life fun.
Tentacles in books, in food, in the forest
Search and grab the unusual
Of a million objects.
Limitation is frustration.
A common species is the woman
In the lab
Yet it is endangered in its migration to
The office and to the empowerment.
Migration routes are undetectable
And few footprints are left on the plastic floor
For the young ones to follow.
Breadcrumbs and seeds
In a line on the floor
Are not enough.
Career as a gloomy destiny
And a sweaty work to do.
The stress of articles
Highlighting its importance
Demotivate me
And put water on the burning glamour
of living in the lab.
What is fun and pleasure
Has to be a smart move.
I refuse.