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Description
Forty seven windows
on the bedroom's walls.
Whitout glasses or wooden doors,
I can see through them
The world where I shatter.
Through one comes the sun light,
through another the moonlight,
through another the stars shine,
which come along the sky in all their bright.
Through this one the Milky Way,
like a cotton figure in the highness,
through that the mankind's light,
through other the darkness.
Through the biggest the amazing,
through the smallest the sure,
through the front one's the beauty
that floods like an open door.
Through the squared one comes the faith,
with four equivalent sides,
four lines, four corners,
four bright white lights.
Through the round one comes the dream,
because sentinels are round,
and dreams are fake and lies,
like clowns.
Through over there comes the sadness,
and through there the missing,
and the desire, and honesty,
and the silence, and the surprise,
and the humankind's love, an the odium,
and the fear, and the melancholy,
and this hunger without possible soluction,
which is called poetry,
and the innocence, and the gentleness,
and the self-pain, and the common pain,
and the passion burning in flames,
and the widowness, and the pitty,
and the big white bird,
and the big black bird,
which stare at each other, sheding the tear,
drawned in fear,
all the laughter and cries,
all the hungers and the happy christmas balls,
everything follows their shadow,
on my four walls.
All evidence is proved,
no doubt attaching to the past.
Life needs a change,
or where it goes through,
listen to this voice,
-let's start by you.

Description
Forty seven windows
on the bedroom's walls.
Whitout glasses or wooden doors,
I can see through them
The world where I shatter.
Through one comes the sun light,
through another the moonlight,
through another the stars shine,
which come along the sky in all their bright.
Through this one the Milky Way,
like a cotton figure in the highness,
through that the mankind's light,
through other the darkness.
Through the biggest the amazing,
through the smallest the sure,
through the front one's the beauty
that floods like an open door.
Through the squared one comes the faith,
with four equivalent sides,
four lines, four corners,
four bright white lights.
Through the round one comes the dream,
because sentinels are round,
and dreams are fake and lies,
like clowns.
Through over there comes the sadness,
and through there the missing,
and the desire, and honesty,
and the silence, and the surprise,
and the humankind's love, an the odium,
and the fear, and the melancholy,
and this hunger without possible soluction,
which is called poetry,
and the innocence, and the gentleness,
and the self-pain, and the common pain,
and the passion burning in flames,
and the widowness, and the pitty,
and the big white bird,
and the big black bird,
which stare at each other, sheding the tear,
drawned in fear,
all the laughter and cries,
all the hungers and the happy christmas balls,
everything follows their shadow,
on my four walls.
All evidence is proved,
no doubt attaching to the past.
Life needs a change,
or where it goes through,
listen to this voice,
-let's start by you.