Sometimes I feel like a Kite. Flying high on the blue infinite sky, and yet grounded by the hand that takes me wherever whenever it wants...if I could only break that tiny thread and run away, far very far...between the clouds and hide, never to be seen again...ah!...I want to...
let me break free.
Bilingual Blog about poetry, short stories and some random pondering about life, culture and love as I understand it.
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
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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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