Just shut up and look to the front,
to that curved lines that are writing your future.
A future writen by the hands of an old man,
who is only writing what a blond boy tells him to write.
That old man is as bald as you are starting to be.
That boy has your same blue eyes,
with the difference that his are not broken,
they are not full of fears and empty of tears.
Bea querida bea ¬¬
ReplyDeleteEstamos muy indignadas contigo. Queremos la varsión española. Para inclutas.
Gracias, Atte
Desde la habitación de al lado.