presoblu

But how much arrogance is wasted, for which mediocre horizons, the sense of vague helplessness, of a rainy day, with a taste of rain, on rainy days. With which armored fears confuse the bitterness between the teeth, the bland blue police, of a rainy day, with a taste of rain, in years of rain. but can you tell me where you are, if I ask where you are, you hide where you are. The emptiness of your certainties among your walls that now nail silence between us inner disorder but order in the country prisons courts or maybe churches, fear of death, fear of life fear that life slips away between the fingers, fear that a different life would also be possible, fear of the different fear of the possible. In which silences does the anger of your certainties echo, because you don't try to surrender to a rainy day, with a taste of rain, in years of rain.