sábado, 2 de julho de 2011

They are motionless...

Where I live I cannot see people like me. I do not have friends here. Sometimes I walk alone by the streets that I am used to, but I do not have the feeling that I belong to this place. Actually, this is not where I belong. I know that because each face around me cannot show me that they are like me. I see poor faces and poor dreams, I see people motionless like trees. Sometimes I get lost in this forest of broken wings because I am learning how to fly and I am afraid to try and have my wings crumpled like a sheet of paper. I am sorry for all those faces that carry closed windows instead of eyes, but it is not their fault. Something in this world made them be who they are, something that  I cannot think of, something that must be avoid. The only way to survive is to dream. Each human being has a destiny: when you enter in the right river, it will lead you where you belong. I hope I go sailing the right river in this life on Earth.