Trying not to cry,
I'm feeling how everything is arriving to the end.
Hours continue their circular way
and imagination goes on making words while some beautiful minds become themself in a one stupid stuff.
The planet is gonna die
it's asking for help and many people doesn't want to understand.
Maybe you're telling yourself
"Why I'm reading this fucking lines".
And I say you
"So sorry my friend".
My sleeper left hand is holding a cigarrette brake. My right, wishes to hit the pen.
It isn't a poem or a stranger song,
but if in this moment I could find a piano or a guitar,
be sure I'll win a Grammy and It will be not wrong.
Thanks for reading.
I must to tell you now
'cause it's the time to turn off the lights.
I have nothing more to write.
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