A CRY FOR FREEDOM © 2008
My thoughts are in the millions,
Spreading like stars in the deep sky,
Varying in content and emotions,
To serve the vast hearts of this world.
Each idea is a prelude, a fleeting note,
To entertain those who, by chance, listen to me,
But in the subtext, there is always something that makes,
The thought wander, without ever finding exchange.
Feelings, those, no longer belong to me,
I stole them throughout life, in each gaze,
Others feel them, but forget,
That every painful arrival is also a departure.
I am made of the pains I observed from afar,
Of the smiles I saw fading over time,
And I carry, as if they were mine, what hides,
The soul that feeds on eternal lament.