Daños de una flor marchita.
- LETTURE 65
- Voti 7
- Parti 7
Sentimientos ajenos a los que mi corazón transmite.
Oculto malestar permanente, que alguien introdujo en mi mente.
Partes de mi que ya no están en el cuerpo que siento, y viajan al abismo.
Yo, miedo, pesar. Siento no ser como esperaba.
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Sueño con un paraíso colorido, que el himno nacional sea un latido. The flag will not know bloodshed. Bad people will see what's truly up ahead. Yo quiero que el humano sea humano y que sus acciones no sean en vano. I want people to be treated equally like gold and not falter with the cold words they have been told. I want people to melt that iron in their hearts and make that metal into houses that won't fall apart. The imaginary lines that separate us will be erased and turned into dust. That wall made of blood and distrust, for people that are treated with disgust, will crumble to pieces with their voices. Because what separates us are colorful skin and choices...
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