Life
In the way the subject learned it
Even as one fastens the shoes
It is part of the truth that the personality recorded.
We are made of cuts
A gluing wrapped in leather
In ditto desperation in equal doses
That time goes by it seems
So we grew up from small frustrations
That they were building social truth
And sometimes they saw small flashes
masked in colonial essence.
It often happens that sometimes the scream dazzles us
Of the peacock because his cloak is bright
We also usually ignore the simple cry
With what the lark truly makes the sun shine.
As the traces orient the ant
We are going towards reality
Taking away the lie
The trace of truth will surely lead us to the sun.
There is a flower there is a thorn
There is everything that happened to us
Like a canyon caterpillar on life
Or like a prisoner on the wall makes a clock
There is what there is incomplete we have the soul
We suffer original sin
Having been born before the singing of weapons
It will teach us to leave the animal kingdom.
That's how I am, that's how you are, that's how they are
Those who suffered from learning as children
First the fiction of kings and elves
than the window to write and read.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)