Because I think about you
Because I think you?
Simple question, for this mortal plebeian.
That seeks excuse to know, of you with desire.
My messages, low blow, bother you although I do not believe it.
There is no excuse for the majesty of how I think you.
Why do not I answer you?
Simple, I walk with fear, because we are souls in a scattered situation.
You know, it hurts when you write hard, and with effort.
Seeking that my heart dies, without knowing your desires.
I do not want excuses that die with memories.
Why do I do it?
I'm Poeta Loko, I write stupidities wrapped in lies.
Which sound, like fantasies that are not divine.
But reading them understands me stubborn.
Since I do not find poems that only go and destroy, but they stay the top.
Understands !!!!!!!!!!
My lines are venting with extreme pleasure.
Only they understand when I cry at sunset.
When the twilights with reds play a single being.
And the sun hides, simple came the night with some stress.
Which is not removed with kisses because it bitter skin.
Only desire to rest, understand I am a woman.
The exhaustion of the street appeases my desire to talk to you.
Anyway, I wanted to remind you of the fact that I think of you.
My answers you have women, I only existed.
In memories of why I do it with havoc, and I got lost.
Understand that my feelings I want to have them with you.
Autor: Ivan Rattia
