Write or not to write... that is the question.
Anticipation of the limits,
of a digital world.
I was there in the past,
and I will be there again...
Are you happy?, I asked, but
He never answered.
Do you want me to wait for you?
He never answered,
After
He hold her, he kiss her, she was mad,
I told her, we were talking about her beauty,
I left,
but I was looking, staring at them from the skyscraper.,
leaving the flowers behind.
I kiss his arm, but
no answered back.
I walked away,
the stones came from the mountain,,
buried my nostalgic body,
Nobody would Understand.
What are you doing, I said to my self:
Living in a museum of torture.
Song from the sky:
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