I'm walking the paths of my childhood,
They hold thousands of memories,
The laughs with Clément,
The sweet flirts with Cynthia,
The tragic tears of Héliena,
The blood of Jean...
Graffitied all across,
The fields of my lovely hometown.
The sun feels shy this morning, but tries,
Honestly, in its way, to shine bright,
Yet I'm glad for the little pink hoodie,
I chose to wear, thanks to the almanac.
The center seems busier than normal,
Strange for a winter morning, I think,
But well, at least for once, it's not raining,
So I feel happy for all the dogwalkers,
And the grandmas fluttering towards the market.
Mis ojitos witness a silly sign, next to the church,
Where the fishy tattoo shop used to rest,
It alternates between a broken ship,
And a passed out drunk skeleton, holding a beer.
I laugh at the foolish name "Pain-Full Cocktails",
And question myself about the kind of weirdos,
That would ever visit this shady place,
As I open the door and enter the shop.
A smiling barista welcomes me in,
Tells me happily the offer of the day,
The "Burgundian Special" is order one have two!
Perfect timing it seems, so I oblige.
I watch the lady pick up old sliced bread,
And spread a foamy, reddish cream on it.
My heart drops, but I pretend it's fine,
It's that kind of day, I whisper softly.
As I head for the exit, soggy bread in hands,
My favourite dove appears, alongside her own.
Billions of questions swarm my thoughts,
But I don't want to bother, I just can't,
Brain goes numb, blood's frozen already,
I simply go on, free as a young sparrow,
And try to fly, mindlessly.
As I draw away, her sweet laugh resonates,
From the entrance of the funny shop.
Ah, that lovely, heartwarming song...
Waking up my soul, my fragilities...
Thoughts are racing, mind's too vivid,
So I take a generous bite of my sandwich.
Taste is awful, texture feels off,
Fingers are sticky and my lil hoodie is stained,
But I suppose we're way past the point,
It's strong enough to efface my weakness,
Plus half of it for free, great deal, I guess.
I slowly head toward the stream, dreaming,
Walking on my own, down by the riverside,
For a tender moment, that stands and lingers,
I understand all the sweet words of Agnes.
I gently sit by on the rocks and watch,
The cool water flowing, boats passing by,
The cute ducks, playing, fighting, singing,
While I munch on my cocktails,
Peacefully.