my tears I ask permission to see what is beyond sadness. I long to hold the hand that has me out of so much torment. What steps to follow my dreams find the right path? If only these mornings are not so perfect, I might feel less lonely than I am. Every night is coming to take my days, every morning comes to take my night. So pass the time, so time passes me. The memories sprout and germinate on my sharp tears. And the pain is installed in this room where I spend time trying to forget.
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