the morning's unfinished cup of coffee,
with a two smokes one by another,
the black ripped t-shirt (aka pajama) on,
on the bank's gift picnic chair,
nuttin' but strings's album in a background
and a burst of chilled thoughts on mind...
it's been a whole month that fly like a second...
tomorrow is a new day!

she has always been shy, with me
she was a child,
now she's a girl,
I was real, she was a dreamer,
she did not said that,
I never asked,
she was hoping,
I was rock,
for her, to protect her
of me,
we were both sad, with a smiles on our faces,
she is just to smart, and it is sad,
love hates intelligent
now she's sad again,
she won't say,
I hope I would never ask,
the sad true,
we never dare to try...
love hates thinking,
love knows no future...

the one who will be patient enough,
the one who will understand me,
with no talk at all,
the one who will hear my silence,
the one who will try
will see,
it wasn't really hard,
just needed to do it,
with no asking,
that one, my love will get,
just stupid enough has to be,
and deserve all I want to give...

why I am so quiet you ask me,
cause I talk to much,
when I talk,
why I look so sad you ask me,
cause I am getting to happy,
when I let it be,
why do I struggle with myself,
you could ask me,
if you knew me,
cause I do not want to, with you,
cause I love you,
I would say,
and you would not understand,
and you'll get afraid
and here we are again,
at the beginning
but now with open cards,
no girl, honest talk is a luxury,
I can't give it to you now,
I am will, but not "rich"
cause I care,
for me...

why do I always choose the circle road over the straight one,
why do I always pick the ****** resting face girl over the smiled one,
why do I need something always,
when I even feel like I do not need anything,
I need the challenge,
even when I do not want to compete, at all
does that makes me feel alive,
or I just enjoy the sadness,
I am not confused,
I am just not sure,
does that makes me look sad maybe,
or it is just my ****** resting face,
at least I can suffer,
and have a good excuse,
if I really need one,
but I do not,
I am just happy sad...

when my father's tears were struggling with his character
his eyes were looking like an arena,
there was a battle,
strong father's character v.s father's love
on the surface of his eyes I could see,
all that he was trying to hide,
from me,
to protect me,
so the one who would cry those tears,
would be not me
A man has no other option,
than, to fight
to let the tears go, and hide them in a same time,
what an art of love!!!