An allergy to the happiness
Seemed being manifest.
Crooked lips
Wrinkled face,
Twisted Nose,
Suffocated soul.
Seemed to have
vocation to depress.
Sunny days,
They were hell;
Rainy days,
The biblical flood.
Happiness…
Happiness was gold,
Foolish gold.
Murderer knife
Of two blind edges.
Blind man, blind man.
Used to tell lies
And from lies reborn
But was a stillborn,
An unhappy bathroom cry,
Unable to lie to the heart,
Unable to accept it.
And died
And revived
and died again.
Unhappy cycle
In his mind.
Unhappy indeed
Eternally.
Moisés Bentes
Posted on Wednesday February 10th
