Workaholic

I often deny the beauty
Of the world passing by
And neglect the true source
Of a life to remember.
Springing water can clean my avidity
With its transparent and youth
And I will make sure I will get surprised
Each time.

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Baby vision

Red Hair and a pointy nose
Are your ticket in this trip
Between mountains of velvety sheeps
and tons of vivid petals.
I see what you see
With suspense
And touch those peculiarities
That dot the panorama
And that drive me to the top.

Pinky fingertips

Pinky fingertips of mine,
Who translate those windy thoughts
Into paragraphs of inspiration,
Hold me closer, please.
A day of difficult communication is ending
And another one will drain my blood
tomorrow.
Pink and gentle,
You represent me to the world.

Reading the scene

Prescribe me that tablet
That silences the worries
and flattens all shades to grey.
I will hide the what makes people different
And paint them all pink
To provoke me smile in the tedious morning.
I will sometimes give them features
And dots will appear making them artists from the circus.
My life to amuse and surprise
While the world is slowly entertaining me.

Grounded

Young woman with a sculptured character
You Prevent me from running blindly
Towards a mirage with a blurred profile
And from grabbing with direct hands my illusions.
You keep me connected
To the world of decisions and actions
Where perfection is unnecessary
And purposes are valuable.

Big ideas, small hands

I am a speckle of dust
Filled with ambition and clear thinking
Shivering its small size.
How to translate what is boiling in me
Into a recipe and a spoon
To feed the curious world?

Paradox daydream

I live the paradox
Of being tired by sitting
And being bored by data plotting.
Refusing the surrounding drama
I enjoy my own thoughts and daydream
With my mind as a private cinema.