This air we breath
Which fills our lungs...
The stanzas come easy,
and free, meaningfully...
Death and life are arguing
(with the death tray always predominant...
Here everything has changed and the silences...
Little things get so huge, principles woken or...
Memories flooding back,
visions of yesteryear...
We throw our life away,
attempting just to live it...
Though my hands
have settled dust...
Sun is setting, over the forest tops
shining over farms and town roofs...
Wise is the man
who gives from the heart...
If I could write a apology letter
to the world, to my family and friends...
-The poetries of mine
mere not writings I define...
I'm going somewhere,
somehow, someway...