when you ask me if I'm bored
of listening to your terrible stories,
it makes me think about
what boredom means to me
and why it’s beauty that I find
in apparent mundanity.

you color my life in every tone of grey -
in a nourishing and poetic, underrated way.
GREY - the soul of every color in the world;
Invisible and aligned - right between extremes -
like all well designed things are known to be.

Or maybe because grey
feels like routine,
and you’re the everyday
that's to come and that has been.

you're where I set my bar for normal;
you're my Sunday night pajama informal.

You’re my common sense, and my reality check,
my perspective lens, my goodnight peck.
and even your grim phone voice
and plot less stories on sleepless nights
are part of the palette  I've come to adore,
painting magic in monochrome.

Sugarcandy or a chilli flake
Either a sweet tooth or a burning ache
Lethal or way too safe
Either a tequila or a fresh water lake
A diamond or a snowflake
One meek other too brave
Rumi's words or Evanescence
It's birth and death at play

I remember you, clear as crystal
Young and bold, hopeful but not dreamy
Courageous, stubborn, a bit too rebellious

With a spark like stars, shining bright in your eyes
You aspired to not stand out, but stand tall and rise
But that day on the station, I lost you
You saw me, waved me off

I did not realize, I was 22 and I lost myself in you.

Let this one stay
Don't take it away
Maybe I got swayed
But it's part of the play
For to keep people astray
Your magical spells awaits
Showman walks another way
The audience is left to sit amazed
Go home, the show has to terminate
Take all with you, feelings and your case

You hold things, you hold them for a while
When in storm, a leaf learns to fly.

It though will belong to the tree it fell from,
Forever and all its life!

Sun, don't be mad if I hate you in the summer. You still are my favourite thing in winters.

Grass, don't feel any less greener if I smell the flowers. You are still my barefoot, long-walk mate.