The child is blind from staring,
has sat long on the rain static
twists the streets with her still weigh.
Who I looking for?
The crying has come to look white, all things concur
against him, but nothing motivates him to take a step
to get to the next step .
Why am I alone?
says, and only the wind
answer your question.
Did not you know?
you blind child blind.
can not see those
playing between stars and waves
salt breeze, only see the loneliness.
The boy shrugged
feet sits, stares at the sky and says:
thought that was my father
sun and moon and stars my mother
my brothers.
The wind laughs merrily
and answers:
not worry,
I am you breath
and you
family sent me to take you back.
**
Behind the door
Grita,
hide behind the door, shouting
,
you survive the night
that melts on the sidewalk.
Do not sleep without nightmares,
is the perfect way to
clearly ready for trial.
Come on, cry, despair,
have no exit, there behind the door,
're behind the wall of life
that rises every morning.
Who are you?
Can you understand?
tremor of laughter bucolic poem
death is a friend,
not me singing,
you, you're the one who understands.
I'm just behind the door,
'm behind the door,
yes, I can not leave,
this morning, I will not leave the prison.
Who am I?
Can you understand me?
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