A Robotic Day

Night fell as squinting

Eyes remained glued to bright screen

numb legs unfolded

a buzz like a fly

in my head and in my foot

flicking a switch on

room flooded yellow

mouth dry, but back here now,

nothing else but white

Haiku on nostalgia

Run, whispered the voice.

What else would innocence do?

Slipping through icy

Paths, against the backdrop of

The bloody sky, chased by

Nostalgia, what

To do now, except paint a

Rosy smile, masking.