19 acessos
There's no question mark, in the reproachful beating of the clock.
Punctually registrating the time I've clearly wasted.
Eyes reveal an eggshell with with a concrete look.
Fragile like Chinese porcelain, still my mand can't break it.
I tried the fists, the pride, the tears, denial.
But all I needed was a simple smile.
The thing I love is what I fear.
Afraid I'd hold, I'd strangle.
The painting merely illustrates the one that broke the wall.
Is no one else but you.