@Nico91 23 November 2022

I wanted to write a poem, but I had experienced all the emotions, all the tears not like long ago it doesn't even matter the reason, I cried the last metaphors. There was nothing left to write in me. I was a big gap! The footsteps took me to a pawn shop where I found an abandoned love. The autumn sun was burning her on a dusty shelf. How poor to be to pawn the most precious feeling, love? My pockets were empty, but I proposed a trade. I pledged my life so I can live it. It was a fair exchange, for a love of a weekend. I still live her laugh, the echo of a few footsteps, lips still carry the perfume of her body. Now there are only tears between us who should write them who can read them anymore? I asked an old man if he knew the answer? Only those who truly love I can write them and those who touched the heart in a sublime love I can read them. Making every tear a sweet or bitter drink, for the soul - he told me. I was silent! One day I passed by happiness!