Traces of perfume: the last train. By Valeria
30/11/09
My image is reflected in the water ... Who am I?
For a long time I mirrored in foreign eyes trying to see fragments of my soul.
But there was only turbulence of the mind in a way today, tomorrow in another.
A tortuous path and incomprehensible, a tangled forest of opinions, judgments, prejudices, conveniences ...
So, who am I? Everything is teeming with life, but I do not understand this life.
The screams of the children during the game ... that children with adult eyes seem so innocent ... But many of them already reside the seeds of cruelty.
I try to imagine the planet Earth seen from afar, a speck in the universe that turns blue in the silence of outer space.
Since it is impossible to understand this silent immensity swarming broken every day is done under the sun.
This cruel game I really do not understand ... One day I met eyes in which I could not specious.
I was hoping to find answers there, and instead of eyes it did not give signs of encouragement and even a hidden reproach.
