Poem -

It could rain

It could rain

Can't cry now over dusty years
what's done is gone now I'm free
this peaceful feeling may someday pass
and become just a memory

it could rain again
and never end
all I know could be lost in the storm
all I know suddenly foreign

As I grow older I grow unsure
beliefs dying everyday
The more I see then the more I know
the gold is really clay

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author
Lucas Lazar

Hispanic forums HISPAVISION when a President cries of pain and despair as cried Rafael Correa the defamation of his own brother call it cowardly, little man and gay, but crying is necessary for men and women, apart from tears to cleanse the iris also released and removed from the soul great sorrow.

Tears apart a relief is a symptom of rebellion and freedom, but those tears so they are liberators and not slaves don't have to be for us or who we want and love, but by all those unknown men who today at the beginning of a new Millennium suffer persecution, torture and death as they see as destroying their homes, raping their women and perverted their children in complete impunity You can cry of sadness, rage and appear, there are tears of courage, strength, but also there are tears petty and weak.

Have dried the eyes to humanity so much crying?

There was a time today worshiping the golden calf, is worshipped the golden calf and its dogma is money, but given the immensity and grandeur of life more miserable, gold is shit between mud.

I liked the poem, rightly say that even the simplest poet serve for judge, Prophet or psychiatrist, hahahahaha, is a joke, is that I loved the poem and has inspired me to a new work "Black Gold, Blood and Mud," set in the Iraq of 2004, by the way, Stevens James, as I would say Mirela, is an unforgettable poet name It seems silly, but the name says much of a poet.

A greeting.

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