I can't reconcile.
with small actions.
That's why I stay.
painter of the times.
Singer of songs in the winter garden
The weather is dripping with Spring inside me.
Dressed in the yellow of the asphalt
I love with anguish what I have lost.
I am rooted to the rock
cactus of frugality.
Mild bile and saltiness of will.
I want to appease you.
Why are you threatening me in anger?
"Whoever has no homeland
particular
"he doesn't have any"!
You call me your island.
My vein...
photo sssssss, https://pixabay.com























