afternoon, short-sighted as a ship, immersed retraced in pain from a nap. Outside
cat licks in the few drops of rain.
Rain, rain, rain.
eyes were resigned to oblivion and silence and not seeking their place.
Nowhere old, boring, boredom, he blows his head with nostalgia.
ducks no longer laugh at the bottom of the field.
sleepless No lookouts or sewers.
the pavement makes a plop softly on the roofs of cars sounds like a silk
torn.
A little peace, just a little.
A little love, tenderness.
The last sheet shows fall under the spell falls inert.
There are not songs or guns for peace
