flowers are colorful ,but they die.
and become gray.
as the smoke, from a burning cigarette,
escaping my lungs, it disapears.
light is powered off., so night come to reign my mind.
movies have an end, no matter of their kind.
the bottle got empty ,about 3:45 am.
and everything ends, here.
here!
here?..
i've felt so much ,more than i've wrote.
and never found myself.in words, or feelings
poems like letters.
lines cross the colors,
sometimes sadness is forgotten
like childhood mistakes.
smiles and laughter
sad eyes,invade the streets,
sad faces,smile each to other ,
so much countries,  more streets,
and many more sadness.
i might been lost,
in these words.
it should be the end..
writing like running to death's embrace