Some Times

Some Times

Some times need to be silent
Some times need the fury of accuracy
Sometimes I’m blind when I walk down
The corridor
Sometimes I feel like I’m a bull
Entering in the corridas

Help me swallow this piece of silence
I can breath again when the day is done
My pitiful eyes bleed the morsure of writing
Might be the remorse of reading
And I’m laughing like a fool
Like if the world is new
And I am born again