I see the sky,
And I wish I could fly.
I see around,
But everything is ground.
All lost and nothing found.
All the dreams are dead,
Hiding and unread.
Everything is gone,
And all dreams are torn.


Miro hacia el cielo,
Y deseo poder volar.
Miro a mi alrededor
Pero todo es suelo.
Todo perdido nada encontrado.
Todos los sueños están muertos,
Escondidos y sin ser leidos
Todo se ha marchado
Y los  sueños estan partidos.
Copyright © 1998, Beatriz X


About B. Meza

Writing is liberating.
This entry was posted in Poesía, Poetry, Thoughts about life and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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