And that's the game that the hands grip strength and create clippings kites ...
Universes voids refined
honest gags to avoid being crushed.
There is a nation of obedient soldiers parading in front of my eyes.
I hit the word "special" when he was my middle name.
As a child I thought as a photographer in the mirror of conscience.
I saw my reflection shot and I felt transparent.
Then came the precise moment when everything changed his name.
It was not lament but pity, and I created my words.
In a code of twenty-one letters I have translated my fears.
I have drawn countless signs to finish me and nail me.
There was the promise of a reward in every searching look.
Then I learned to find the courage under my bed and my future.
The darkness was so complicated to turn off my candles.
reiterated smiles blind not to rejoice in my joy.
dawns There were more red than now when I asked each new day
which I had to wear masks so as not to surround it.
And they told me I was crazy when I smile and I looked down.
My feet were shadows, and I was convinced you were flying.
But in games of one adult child also knows the rocks disappear
and touched all that was sweet because it was enough to make me calm ...
Then I met the eyes of a magician who could hide the pain.
On his bruises I have every reason to let a dying man.
Surrender was cowardly but it was convenient to leave to sue. My
importance was true only when the attention I could change.
And then there's today and every day. There is the miracle of the return.
The wonder of seeing abnormal ones that I threw stones.
Why there is growing loser dreams, and those who swallow them to burn.
I only know the name of those who say that there will always be the detail and color.
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