An artificial life of an artificial man
lunes, 17 de agosto de 2009
martes, 4 de agosto de 2009
Unstopable hands

In a sheet of paper, I wrote
I wrote my last words, beacuse i can´t say them
I feel my mouth covered by invisible hands
Those hands are taking me away
Laying in a bed
The depression grows in the room
Those hands are crossing my body and I can´t react
What i can do?
I´m still writing with crooked words
The sound of a broken clock, The time had come
I didn´t finish but the pain had already licked my hand
In a cold and lonely death, I cry
domingo, 2 de agosto de 2009
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