CADA VEZ QUE nos volvamos a ver,
estamos delante de esa montaña
de vidrio quebrado.
Metemos las manos - a ver si encontremos
pedazos parejos del pesimo pasado.
NOS CORTAMOS.
Quedan las cicatríces, recuerdos de lo que fue.
Y aún queda piel intacta.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Carla Jana Svaton.
Published on e-Stories.org on 10/10/2009.
More from this category "Growing Up" (Poems in spanish)
Other works from Carla Jana Svaton
Did you like it?
Please have a look at: