THESE SCARS ARE REAL, THE CURE TOO

Now I am getting older again, some of my stones ache, my roots has not the same strength, and on some occasions my view sees no changes into canvas.

Swoon from the feelings corrupted by the light of my absence, that murky day when you leave, so far i was and so near i will be, but…

I have to be stealthy, I could make enough noise for the little children that had not ever woke up, oh, but baby, did I be polite with you?, I have my doubts.

As the swingers,the ballad can recognize different paces, some of them can not be defined, and some of them has a broken soul, that’s what I see, that is what I feel, I hope I can find a beautiful light that shines, not salacious, not empty at all.

I know, my nails feels it, the length of the real dawn is near, i feel a horrible overthrow in my lungs, «you should be calm», i say it to myself over, and over again, and my breath stop taking the unreal gas.

I must to be careful you will fall into a matted spider web full of disguises, even though you are ready to pass them by.

Salacious people, i’m scared of them. I hope it’s just prejudice, but, by the way, am i not one of them?

I’m just a human, between a lot of people, I make choices, good things, and mistakes. even I can make someone happy, I hope I will find you.

These scars are real, no one can remove them, I am the chosen one for cure them, no one in the world can make me feel the noise where the calm is mine.

On occasions people seem like urchins when I touch them, it is the simple way to realize in this poor world I have to be gentle.

Where the stars start shining, the smaller I feel the people, and the harder I shine.

I was just thinking.