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...
Bilingual Blog about poetry, short stories and some random pondering about life, culture and love as I understand it.
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The Arts of His Hands
His imagination created the life as you see it The beauty of a sky, the powerful rivers, the serenity of lakes...the tall grass, the breath...
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Listen, just listen to the hours They are trying to tell you something...
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To the music...the sensous rythm...the words wrotten by an excentric poet...it brings so many memories...of family reunions...special times ...
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Listen to the silence That speaks about the goodbye That we never said... Listen to the footsteps That sneak into our souls And scare t...
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