terça-feira, 6 de março de 2007

Poetry that does not rhyme: Rain falls everywhere

Rain is falling down my house.
It hits every single piece of my window.
Inside the cold room I wait alone.
Am I waiting?
For what should I be waiting?
Is there a secret surprise I didn’t know?
Is there any change that would enlighten my soul?
None.
Nothing.
Life goes on.
Our hope keeps the same.
And keep on going, waiting.
Rain keeps on falling in my window.
People run one side to another to get away.
Away from the water that hits everything.
Running, to get on time to their houses.
To get hooked again, on TV shows.
To get their hands on their wives.
And smile because the day is over.
And another one is coming.
And another one.
And another.
Another.
Till we die someday, without knowing what hit us.

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