The thoughts don't really go away,
They fly high, fast paced as usual.
My dear pen is still loyal, although lonelier,
I hear its sweet whispers, feigning to ignore them.
I am perhaps, the unfaithful one here,
Scared of the words, it might translate.
The clouds have been pouring for a little while,
I sit quietly by the window, covered in raindrops,
A comforting idea,
"Told you we didn't need to clean them"
Clever as ever, me is.
This is a lucky day for the tiny snails,
I witness a flock in my gardens,
Feasting generously on the lettuces.
I wonder what's on their mind, what they think,
Dancing in the rain, munching their favourite,
Do they feel happiness, are they content?
For a tiny moment, at least I seem to be,
As mis ojitos delicately wander back,
Towards my patient pen, yearning for reunion.
Jan 24
Jan 24, 2026 at 5:13 AM UTC
The thoughts don't really go away,
They fly high, fast paced as usual.
My dear pen is still loyal, although lonelier,
I hear its sweet whispers, feigning to ignore them.
I am perhaps, the unfaithful one here,
Scared of the words, it might translate.
The clouds have been pouring for a little while,
I sit quietly by the window, covered in raindrops,
A comforting idea,
"Told you we didn't need to clean them"
Clever as ever, me is.
This is a lucky day for the tiny snails,
I witness a flock in my gardens,
Feasting generously on the lettuces.
I wonder what's on their mind, what they think,
Dancing in the rain, munching their favourite,
Do they feel happiness, are they content?
For a tiny moment, at least I seem to be,
As mis ojitos delicately wander back,
Towards my patient pen, yearning for reunion.
