Abreva Directions Use

II An invitation to avoid the lament

As serenely breathe the righteous,
just a whisper, to speak to their souls to go, while
friends around, still do not know:
"took off his breath," "may come back."

Sciogliamoci so no noise, no crowds
tears and sighs
would profane
reveal our joy - to the uninitiated - our love. The motion

fears and evils of the land port,
speculates on the fate of the man and what he has in mind but
, the magical anticipation of Volta,
even more so in the end, there is innocent.

Love Dull enthusiasts desires,
- where the soul is the meaning -
does not include the absence, which removes
those things which were food, but we

, thanks to a love refined
to the point of ignoring its essence, in our communion of Creation

curiam less to lose eyes, lips and hands.

Our souls who are always together, even if I have to go
, no fracture,
rather an expansion, they will;
like gold, wrought in purest lamina.

We always two, like twin peaks of a compass
and your soul will be my foot stopped,
that apparently is not a step, while
tilts, acts as a pivot, and even if

residence at the center,
while the other goes farther
leans to gaze follows the intent to return
built when we close.

So you're for anyone, even should,
similar to the other tip, roll round retort: \u200b\u200b
your circle firmly supports my
and, right at my beginning, takes me back.



free adaptation "A Valediction: forbidding Mourning" by John Donne

How Much Soap Is There In Sunlight

Dum spiro hope

how poor people think that I have not lost anything,
trivial hidden behind bars, covered with the stench of whiskey,
or from things to do, to further occasion;
and thinks, sees and ignores everything I had and, perhaps, did not.

How many times must experience it to understand things,
how many times have you locked up behind endless adolescence,
from which we do not grow, do not go out except to go to the grave;
closed in themselves innocent, the center of its universe.

Unable to see even the first to understand, indolent, dedicated to themselves,
like a ripe fruit that "looks" but bland inside,
for lack of water, courage, did not have the richness of this pain.

And he never suffered from hunger for love, maybe just under,
between war and hunger, a cartoon and a good news
out on the shining faces of advertising.

Tv Price Drop After Superbowl 2010

white sheets

A white sheet is what remains
there is no word, everything to be filled;
and so is the void, after the funeral,
that only now you can feel it.

And now it's night, just the night that chew
and I only wish you could feel
words, feel the beat feel where the presence
tooth hurts.

But the last image that I want to keep
is your smile, like snow in the sun,
the day before - the mimosa festival -
responding to mine and, again, called love.

There was no torture, there was no pain at the end when you
accingesti to go;
a blank sheet of paper is what remains
and again called rhymes with pain.