soaked in his own sweat,
for running in directionless,
what a hamster in his cage,
or a fly in a glass,
his lost eyes, so empty,
they saw the coldness of the faces, that became friends,
he wanted to seduce loneliness,
but more cold than the snow, she did not step back,
from your smile,
I only remember you, crying!
your joys, are vague in my memory,
I want to be able to tell you this,
but you are cold now, and sleeping.
your lips are dry now for loneliness,
mines, they do nothing but cry,
your eyes now closed, hide your sleeping heart...
we thought, we would win,
from this society we felt disgust,
but they were consuming me,
and I ran out from you.
you can not go back from this trip of yours,
you can not see back,
the memories now cry,
I am lying, I am the one who cries.
About the Creator
leo c. morales
I am passionate for drama books, also poetry,
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