Mat ... Acting or shine! If, in our pen ...
Soaked, sharp, sharp
inventive, creative or dilapidated
We were only simple writers
Puppeteers
a theater of shadows and lights
A Fragile mean our emotions ...
Say ... What this verb
suddenly seems ridiculous, uneducated, small
It lacks grandeur!
Translate more than an image,
The verb is launched ... Give
finally bursts of brilliance
In poor stature aback,
Monolithics,
marble, rigid
For Life events.
Feathers! Just an aside
Before returning to the subject ... I
, Tu, Il! How ... Do not count!
feathers have we left on the pavement
On the Footprints?
In this labyrinth of life
Where in itself but also our fellow
Everything seems to be a hassle ...
My pen wants to be fruitful
And no more dying sad wreck! The scribe that
I'm probably
is looking, lost, drawn
Pen As a crane operator scans the horizon ...
With the sole obsession
to bury forever the ghost!
This fixed position
Hitchhiking our thoughts,
Do not let this morbid distress
Invade our cockpit!
Let them grace, wander
compliance with our ideas ... damn
By our words, take over!
To ignore these criticisms unjustified
If heavy and cumbersome to digest! Immature
probably we
And then, what does it matter if
through our lives,
These writings
We like to keep salt intoxication
And our child's soul ...
"Concern for his own image , that's the incorrigible immaturity of man "
- Milan Kundera - The
fireworks are so useful in the real deception
Protection? The
not to dare to assert, say
Accepting ... Finally, Live!
Wasabi! I'm tempted to say
insult it is not so!
But for a taste of mustard
face of so much misunderstanding
Who me up in his face ...
Would we all gagged?
The fullness of the heart will always
alone
One way to tell us without shame.
Just like our words
placed on the sheet of paper tied
Sometimes, entangled,
As if to marry ...
The heart has its reasons, sometimes
That aberration
Or lack of discernment,
We are tempted to forget!
Love is something unique and profound
... But remember
Friendship is also a sense
Colorful, full of joy.
Make this coloring
never gets better,
her stay as soft as silk
Hot!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAYKvHXXe
heady Nothing in my words today ... Like any poet
taken his melancholy
No of joy ... One friend
Sweet madness
Lover From Accompanying
my torment! My spleen
He alone helps me write.
No idea in my innermost being germinate
I let my mind wander ...
On another more abrasive paper, not glossy!
Shall I just like a stucco
That element washed, sanded,
Simple relief decoration
one life ... But not that,
Mine!
0 comments:
Post a Comment