.
There was a time in the time when we were innocent, and everything was immense and distant.
Maybe, in those times, we were waiting for something that never came.
Or maybe we were hurt.
In those times]
But our wound was little; because little we were.
In those times such a morning open bread.
Times when we were corduroy of iron]
I won’t may walk with the child I was nevermore; and he couldn’t wash my sins away.
Because he couldn’t save me from my evil of man.
But learning to love; maybe
just maybe]
I could make him smile in peace.
Wherever he is.
.
