They often only exist
come together when happy
Smile and petite the little guy in front of them
like a mere spectacle
Some are not satisfied
always want more, even to the point of demolition
Confess human, but savage
only when seen, they boast about morality
Swinging hands and crotch
creator of tear flood
screamed young souls
increasingly injured and tarnished
Emotional manipulation
not enough once
if necessary non-stop
until they are lifeless again
Where are they?
Just silence a thousand languages
after reasoning: "Not my son",
or: "Their family affairs."
When masking disgrace is more useful
far more than life
They were scattered
leaving the broken souls exposed
slowly losing the fluorescent
Tragedy finished
The crowd dispersed
Just a long story in the newspaper
When do they want to act?
Should wait
when the beast began to hurt
children they love?
Will they become silent,
in an increasingly burning earth
but full of cold, empty, silent souls?
Because they are still breathing,
but with a numb conscience
slowly threatened to death ...
by. 