“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to pretend
to be you.”
I always pretend,
at what I do
Otherwise, the situation
is grim
like the reaper
or the black dog barking
from storm clouds.
I like to watch the sky
on a beautiful blue day
when cotton balls play
in the atmosphere
and the sun doesn’t have anywhere to be
but up
and I am feeling like the sun
while I make the wind
on my bicycle
and lay in green fields
where I hope to die
one day.
I like to pretend, I am the clouds
dissolving
and then I reappear
in mid-air.
I am a dreamer
and my boss wonders why
I don’t want to be her
There is no majesty
in 1000 tasks to do
that take me, no closer
to the clouds.
I ride my bicycle, because it feels good
I work for the pain
and the rest, afterwards
Pretending, always sets me free
because, I can be
anything
no matter what I might be
I am a cloud
in the sky
taking the shape of monsters
It’s a beautiful place
to die
the office,
is worse than death.
I love the sentiment behind these and you have some really lovely prose here. I too would rather be in the clouds than an office.
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Hi Bridgette, thanks for your thoughts! Yes, being in the clouds is a much more peaceful and interesting place. 🙂
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