The thruth is white
Like the fresh snow
That comes down from heaven
And as the liar manipulates it
It becomes brownish and dirty
Like the snow
After it mixes with the salt and the mud and the steps of people and animal's excrement...
And neither can go back to be the way they were...
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A Second Chance
365 days we go, Round and around The brighten sun And we end at the exact Same point we were In the past year... But the canvas Is once ag...
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I wish that your mornings Be bright, with clear skies That you walk in good paths And that you might have Many reasons to smile I wish that...
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son dos ventanas al cielo negro de tu alma...!
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Hence with each cloud that passes by Pass as well my life Playful little white Puffy bright running In a spring like sky...
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