Somehow I was happy to see you
The walls were turqoise
filled with postcards, posters for poetry slam and all kinds of colorful rubble
The room itself was filled with vibrant, ironic and alternative people
Who imagined themselves as visionaries
And thought themselves to have ideas previously unrealized
I never was one of those
Next to the curly redhead, the high school kids and
next to people like you
I always felt a bit old and conservative
Like a hundred years could pass inside my head
While the rest of you lived so very much in the now
That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the environment
(or even crack an original idea every once in a while)
I was still happy to see you
I have always liked your positive, critical mind
So keep on doing whatever the hell you’re doing
And we’ll meet once again
In a hundred years or so
dear visionary