Wednesday, September 26, 2012



The moths invading my closet
Memories already frayed by life
Luck in another brief moment,
The wind follows the old route.
Although I could solidarity,
The corner where time has no doubt
Prevents own dictates that divide
How much is tried imaginary.
Portrait yellowed by errors,
Accumulating in my soul exile,
Burial what was left of this farce,
And just glimpsing the scaffold,
Each new day another mishap
And look good inattentive or disguises.


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