Life beats harder
Like thunder
Heard,
Like darkness
Viewed,
When you face it with anger

One day I closed both of my eyes to see
A view came to me
And told me words
Those words hurt
So I opened my eyes not to see
The view that tells me
Words that hurt.

Is it because I am too nice,
You use me like a dice?
You gamble,
Grumble,
Stumble to ask,
About your task,
Wearing that mask.

Is it because I am too kind,
You think I am stupid, blind?
You play unable
For me to make you stable,
Able to fill your gap
Your cup
With my cup

Is it because I am too modest,
You look at me and protest?
You crumble, scream
For an ice-scream
Like a small boy,
Lost his toy,
Which he used to enjoy.

F!!!!! you my friend,
This is the final end.
Stay away!
Free my way,
The world is wide,
Go away and hide!
Leave me alone,
By my own.

Because is not an excuse
Because is an abuse
Is a pause
Is obvious
I have no other questions but to ask
Which one of you wears that mask?
Is it you or you?
Tell me some words, even just a few
Are you the one who’s cursed?
Or you the one to be true
Please tell me
And I won’t beg more
I am torn
Or as you see I am neither alive, nor
Dead
Your words to me are sore
Haven’t you acquired some lore?
Haven’t you opened your door?
I asked you four questions
Yet I need only one answer
Tell me
Is it you or you?
When they see me they change the view.

Sometimes wind has sounds
And has voices sometimes
Sometimes quiet
Sometimes sings
It depends
If you understand
Behind the sounds,
The voices
Or the quietness
The song
And the reason
Of the new season
As the song sung
Has a rhythm
Within its woos
And notes
Wind makes it being
As a good tiding
Bringing good news

I will be the person others pretend to be
A man that suicides as the honey-bee
It dies and does not flee when it stinks
It gets drunk as it dies leaving drinks
Called honey! In which it sinks
It is so sweet and delicious
I like it, for it is obvious
It is healing and a cure
For he who is sick or not pure.
It is just a bee!
But it teaches what a Man has to be,
A soldier, a humanist, not a zombie!
I am a bee and if you touch my property,
My honey!
Make sure you’re ready for my sympathy
I am so generous but I don’t give for free
No one gives for free they say, even the scorpion!
You always have to pay, for you’re not the champion.

There where the rumors are made
Where the ghosts are seen fade
Hostages chained
Brought to for shade
Outside the sun is closer than the head
I was born here
Or at least near here
And I will be buried in this soil
Chained or unchained
Burned or even taken to boil
My body will add to this soil
I am serious yet not furious
But I am too curious
When my name is spoken
Broken
And I break the law my way
For that I am not shy
To defend my identity
My existence, my dignity
There where I was born
And there where the rumors are made
Rumors include a scorn
My name is sold cheap
Cheaper than my words