Thoughts, flowers, and books from the lab
The synthetic smell of rain on the asphalt
Will stay with me today
And remind me of the aggressive civilization
I belong to.
No flowers of green
On the way to work
To greet my struggled motivation.
What went wrong can be fixed,
Feelings of inadequacy
Linger in the air.
Plan, play smart, identify the tricker
While smoothly you pretty walk to work.
Lists of duties and to-dos
Assemble and diverge dynamically
Through the day
In a mind striving for childish amusement
and solar passions.
I draw delicately my borders
And guard them with criticism
the whole day in the lab.
I paint the intruders
of the colours of support and good attitude
While their footprints contaminate and enrich
The working space or me.
Feeling precious and sunny today
I carefully choose my dress
and move on to impress
the grey factory’s corridors.
I spread my tiny black seeds
that numerous leave marks
I will see after the rain.
WE talk of work, we speak numbers,
Hiding our personality behind white shorts
And grey skirts.
The day passes and i don’t recognize myself.
I listed my past curiosity
and what my hands can di with passion
To return myself at the end of the day.
In my mind, I wear slippers
all day long
while cruising the factory
and criticizing the dynamics of the office.
Slippers with fluff, slippers offering total protection
from those envious eyes and those inner critics
that only a warm tight hug can silence.
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.
