Yo complain so much
But you have your hands.
With them you can work
And make a living.
You can plant roses
Or fix a car...
Or build a house
Or touch someone
You have your feet
And you can walk
From your place
To mine...
You have your eyes
To differentiate
wrong from right
And ears to hear
Who say I love you
From the heart....
But you chose
No to walk
No to see
No to hear
And who am i
To tell you
Otherwise.
I love you.
That is all I know.
Now. Good bye.
It is time.
Bilingual Blog about poetry, short stories and some random pondering about life, culture and love as I understand it.
Friday, April 5, 2019
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Listen, just listen to the hours They are trying to tell you something...
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