Century of Angels

I’m feeling fresh
I’m feeling fine
More freedom around my neck
These days
But I missed walking
And talking
Stalking not so much
And such
Stuff you would do
On a Friday eve
Right before weekends
In winter
You ask yourself:
Shall I go out
Or should I stay in
Checking the fridge first
Then you realize
There is no alcohol left
Could be a good sign
Should turn out fine
If you could enjoy the sofa
With a book at best
And the rest of you
A movie
One tea for the sore throat
Where did it come from?
The blowing wind
The burning cold
Deep concentration
On the bicycle
Eyes almost closed
To stand the brightness of the sun
Not possible to run
Backwards
Or from internal yelling
On the streets
Because bicyclists are always wrong
And on the wrong end of an accident
Didn’t happen though
Out of pure luck
And a century of angels
So better not to risk it
Better enjoy the biscuit
If there is one left
Otherwise
I might sob for the next two days.