Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Does Marijuana Help Catarac

The mirror on the wall

I realize they are no longer the same,
the reflection in the mirror I see a stranger,
I look back and I lost my way,
are abandoned by a face mask.

All these years where they lost?
What has become of me?
I ask the mirror,
beg an answer ...
But the mirror on the wall does not have a word for me.

lost in this realm that I disinherit,
do not have a place and driven back
vague vague vague and aimless,
I have no more hope in my heart.

I do not have a faith that has faith in me.

Where are my hidden past?
slipped away without my noticing,
what remains for me, what
,
who have I become?
A mask without the face.

The reflection in the mirror spectrum taken from me: I do not
refers image.
Mirror, mirror on the wall ... have a word for me?
"You do not exist,
you're not anything,"
seems that every time I answer.

No, I do not have a place driven back ...
and drag my unhappiness and my mask was too short for eternity ...

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