Marcus Nalgaber Posted July 4, 2022 Share Posted July 4, 2022 (edited) Where are my hands? maybe when night and day are already company loneliness becomes a visit that does not bother and the lights and the shadows are surrealist painters of life maybe I'm already a drawer of yesterday in which others look for memories Maybe those strange birds that turn into wisps of black smoke as they come out of my mouth, are the silent cry of my thought, barren as a soundless instrument Maybe Maybe Maybe Maybe everything has a meaning beyond this side everything is maybe right now a moment that more than a moment is a sea of questions Maybe Maybe Maybe maybe I am the reins of my life but where are my hands? Edited July 4, 2022 by Marcus Nalgaber Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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