Sea 30 2 009
Newspaper De Alina-8
Today in my alone newspaper there is a poem. Perhaps be today more vulgar than of custom. I will blame to the Spring, to the hourly change, to the swaying of the climatology, to the crisis, the thaw of the Pole, to the deforestation of the Amazon, to which there has gone out for me a stepfather, to whom weighed it keeps on being heavy to my chief and keeps on being a chief, to not restoration for umpteenth time of “Blue Summer”, to the Alliance of Civilizations, to the Civilizations without Alliances or puppy that them barks, to the strike of Meter, to Jack the Ripper, to the existence of the world, of the worlds all … To The Love itself.
To faint, to dare, to be furious,
Brave, mortal, deceased, living,
Loyal, traitor, cowardly and brave;
Not to find out of the good centred and rested,
Angry, brave, fugitive,
Satisfied, offended, suspicious;
To flee the face to the clear disappointment,
To forget the profit, to love the damage;
To believe that a sky in a hell fits,
This is a love; the one who proved it knows it.
(Lope de Vega)
I believe that it is the spring … the emotional balance sees pollen shaken therefore … jejejejejeje, I do not want to prove this type of love uffff
PD a kiss
It dresses, ainsss it dresses. Bad virus has caught you, but I am with Lope, who to be a remedy already wise of that much fucked.
since the spring provokes certain itch to me in the area inguinal …
it dresses, since you do not write already almost I do not even enter; what is of your life?