Cloudy day operator
when the worker's hand
it weaves a tangle of hope on the road.

And in a deeply weakened body
there are dry tears on the corroded clothes
through the shadows of emptiness.

Yesterday's voice resounds like thunder
in the heart lost by a mirage.
The diaphanous eyes will tremble in the long dusty days.

And the heavy burden of manhood
It will be offered at the door of freedom.
TODAY.

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