The story that tells itself

The paper is blank

But your days were full.

One by one you built the ladder,

Walked it hesitantly,

And sat at the top.

The story is written in solid words

and wooden sticks.

Be brave and look down,

Look back and read your limits,

The story tells itself.

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Signing at last

Results and images had no name,

Hanging loose in the air of the auditorium.

Years have passed and they have been spoken,

Discussed, and tortured by anybody

With a mouth and a degree.

Now they are on the screen, they have a link,

They have a father and a mother,

And multiple curious coming along like children.

The list of names is long,

The list start with me.

Each day a win

It is an intense  exercise to observe and accept

That not every day brings ground breaking results

That something smashing is not a daily dose,

That maybe today will give no pretty fitting graph.

I investigate

With my playful mind

What I can influence

And give myself a laugh

A moment of pride

A vigorous handshake

A tight cuddle.

Each day a win.

Your place in the world

Your place in the world is safe,

You can sit down.

You don’t have to fight your colleague,

Or snoop over their shoulder,

or steal their solutions,

Or guess their ideas.

You place in the world is empty,

You should decorate it.

You don’t have to copy your neighbours,

Or hire their gardener,

Or paint your façade as they like.

The doorbell will always ring only for you.