I can only bless you whenever I hear your voice in anguish,
when you accuse, when you lie and invent.
it’s all the same, yet
not life is worth it when serve us nothing,
but ties that bind and accept rejection
Bless you, blood that plays hide and seek.
I find you, you find me, I embrace you and you go.
Bless you, life that ridicule, fill me and run away.
how can you live accepting and denying.
Neglecting love and wishing.
Claiming welfare and longing.
Receiving goodness and forgetting.
And where everything seems safe
in the intimacy of the inner self
you slowly return to reality
to distribute drops of inconformity
Bless you because someone understands you
Because reading in between the lines is an art
Because the pain is filtered and hurts the clown
when he looks in the mirror, and learns that the makeup runs.
Sooner or later, to all
we must be accountable
The responsible pays and follow the path
The other one regrets to have lived his journey
As I said before, reading in between the lines is an art
So I love you, and so I leave you
I need to be alone for now
To protect the self that never learns.
Bless you.
LaMore.
