It´s difficult to love when we are down,
It´s like having nowhere to sleep,
We just pretend that we have an option.
Under the bridge or on the garden bench.
Like dust, we rise a couple seconds
At the passage of the unknown
Anxiously aiming to be oxygen
In someone´s lungs
But we fall painfully slow on the ground.
Like smoke of a fire
Or fog we have an effect
A principle of being
But we just can't feel it
A cause
Or a mere colatteral accident in life?
A real pain
Or nature´s oblivion...?
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 8:26 PM UTC
It´s difficult to love when we are down,
It´s like having nowhere to sleep,
We just pretend that we have an option.
Under the bridge or on the garden bench.
Like dust, we rise a couple seconds
At the passage of the unknown
Anxiously aiming to be oxygen
In someone´s lungs
But we fall painfully slow on the ground.
Like smoke of a fire
Or fog we have an effect
A principle of being
But we just can't feel it
A cause
Or a mere colatteral accident in life?
A real pain
Or nature´s oblivion...?
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