Un Cuarto De Hora

No No, no intentes disculparte No juegues a insistir Las excusas ya existían antes de ti No, no me mires como antes No hables en plural La retórica es tu arma más letal Voy a pedirte que no vuelvas más Siento que me dueles todavía aquí, Adentro Y que a tu edad sepas bien lo que es Romperle el corazón a alguien así No se puede vivir con tanto veneno, La esperanza que me da tu amor No me la dió más nadie, Te juro, no miento No se puede vivir con tanto veneno No se puede dedicar el alma A acumular intentos Pesa más la rabia que el cemento Espero que no esperes que te espere, Después de mis 26 La paciencia se me ha ido hasta los pies Y voy deshojando margaritas Y mirando sin mirar, Para ver si así te irritas y te vas Voy a pedirte que no vuelvas más Siento que me dueles todavía aquí, Adentro Y que a tu edad sepas bien lo que es Romperle el corazón a alguien así No se puede vivir con tanto veneno La esperanza que me dió tu amor No me la dió más nadie Ya juro, no miento No se puede morir c

Porque? es la preguna mas hecha por la humanidad a todos les gusta saber el porque de las cosas que pasan a todos no gustaria saber las respuestas de todos los misterio del mundo de la vida y de lo que nos depara el mas alla, pero nadie nunca se pregunta que puedo yo hacer para mejorar mi situacion personal o la de otros, y cuando aparecen personas que se dedican a hacer este bien terminana igual o peor que los demas, los tildan de locos, de inmaduros, de emocionales y no les cuesta mas que recluirse y refugiarse entre esos que esten dispuestos a compartir ideales, y a permandecer fieles a estos sin dejarse llevar por las tentaciones de las masas, que debemos hacer aquellos que pensamos en la vida como algo mas que lo que vemos a simple vista, alguna vez discutia este mismo tema con alguen muy especial, le preguntaba si pensaba que el problema es que somos demaciado idealistas, esta persona luego de una sonrisa torcida me respondio, "el problema no es que seamos demaciado idealis

"Cold (But I'm Still Here)" Hello, I'm your martyr, will you be my gangster can you feel my trigger hand, moving further down your back when you hide, hide inside that body but just remember that when I touch you the more you shake, the more you give away cold, but I'm still here, blind, 'cause I'm so blind, say never we're far from comfortable this time cold, now we're so cold, mine, and you're not mine, say never we're far from obvious this time wait, another minute here, time will kill us after all now can you feel its second hand wrapped around your neck so fall into my eyes and fall into my lies but don't you forget the more you turn away, the more I want you to stay cold, but I'm still here, blind, 'cause I'm so blind, say never we're far from comfortable this time cold, now we're so cold, mine, and you're not mine, say never we're far from obvious this time you're so endearing, you're so beauti

Lost in Translation There is a glass wall between you and I I can see your figure moving along my side, I can also hear your voice as you speak to me, I can even smell your aftershave as fresh as ever I can still feel the touch of your skin as I reach for your face for i feel this glass so thin you would think it is barely there but the truth remains, and this glass is still a barrier that would never brake, for my lips would never feel the soft touch of your kiss and my arms would never know the calming warmth of your embrace; as i realize this, the image of you that I could so clearly see before now it suddenly fades, leaving me only fogged shapes in the shadows i can still get glimpses of you trying to get a message across for i struggle in front of this wall to see if i can interpret your motions yet it is useless, your code is sending me mixed signals and i can not seem to figure you out just yet i get annoyed, angry, frustrated, despair comes in i stand

Hypocrite How do you stop all those feelings from coming to the surface? How do you prevent them form rising? How do you keep them at bay and ignore them? How do you stop yourself from acting upon them? Do you know? How can you tell me not to, when i know you want to? How can you tell me stop, when you want to go on? How can you ask me to forget, when you yourself want things to remain? How can you be such a hypocrite?

El Valor De Vuestro Cuerpo Que ocurrencias tan desfortunadas os obligaria a vender vuestro cuerpo? De que sentimientos tan bestiales huiria tal alma de guerrero, Que amor tan infame ah roto vuestro corazon tan apacionado, Y que plaga a contaminado vuestros pozos de tan inmenza sadiduria. Quisiera saber el precio de esta tan llamada baratija, pues mas bien no seria de valor el uso que tendria lo que me interesaria, si mas la historia que consigo llevaria, aquel que aunque abatido, conservaria vestigios de todo lo que solo vuestro propio cuerpo os puede ofrecer y pienso que vos sos un tonto al imaginar por un instante en desecharle, pues si no bajo este cuerpo bajo que otro os reconoceria...........

Diario de Drako Vendo cuerpo sin alma, con el corazon roto y la inteligencia agotada. os lo dejo barato, veo que hay mucha oferta en el mercado ...

Que es el amor? Sera el amor tan solo un pequeño rayito de luz que se escapa del dia y se viste de rojo para sedudir la noche? que seria el amor, si su color preferido no fuese tan apacionante y tan seductor como el rojo, y si sus colores fuesen negro, gris, o marron? Sera la rosa la flor preferida del amor y el amante? y si la es, fuese preferida si no tuviese olor, si sus petalos no fuesen tan suaves y delicados como la seda? asi como tinene la rosa espinas asi las tiene el amor y no es la belleza de la rosa, o la pasion que expresa su color, o lo brillante que sea el rayito de luz, lo que importa es el proposito que tine la razon de su exixtencia, eso es el amor. Este escrito lo he tenido por mas de 10 años, lo obtuve de una forma clandestina ya que de no haber sido asi hubiese acabado olvidado un basurero, pense que lo habia perdido pero solo estaba mal ubicado y pense que ya era hora de salir de entre las tinieblas, solo debo decir un cosa mas, gracias Mi

Confessions of a true love addict Hi my name is... really not important... but my friends call me the Black Widow (for reasons i shall not reveal right now) and i am addicted to love. I have been a victim of this disease for over 9 years now and been trying to get some type of treatment for it for 2 years... To be quite honest i don't think there is any. I have been to numerous "love doctors" (not to say i have been with different partners hoping to get a cure from one of them just to realize they are as sick as i am or worse, they don't suffer from it at all). I have learned a lot from each of these "doctors". Some have been very optimistic and enthusiastic about the whole thing, giving me tremendous amount of hope (just so later on they could loose it themselves and blame me for it), others have been very pessimistic about it and ended up catching the virus from me. Crazy "doctors" i call them. I had been looking, endlessly, for that one &quo

For all those times..... This is for all those times you where with me, This is for all those times you guided me, This is for all those times you helped me figurer it out, This is for all those times you piked me up, This is for all those times you took pictures of me, This is for all those times you where right, This is for all those times you made me smile, This is for all those times you gave me shelter when I felt astray, This is for all those times you gave me strength when i was weary, This is for all those times you figured me out, This is for all those times you made feel pretty, This is for all those times you where the best example, This is for all those times you made me think, This is for all those times you knew the exact answer to my questions, This is for all those times you made me feel like the best, This is for all those times you carried me in your arms, This is for all those times you came to my mind, This is for all those times you

Para ti que siempre estas conmigo Creo en la justicia, Porque sin ella No existiría la esencia de los dioses. Creo en los dioses, Porque sin ellos, No existiría la esencia del amor. Creo en el amor, Porque sin el, No existiría la esencia de ti. Creo en ti, Porque sin ti, No existiría la esencia de mí.

I look into the complicity of my generation and find that as the era passes by we have become more possessive and more obsessed with owning and collecting certain things. We have become seduced by the idea of possession, as if that were the only thing that mattered now a day. We want to posses more money (in a way we collect it), we want to have more "experiences" not to say have more men and women and be graded by that (another item that adds up to our collection and they better by the looks and by what they have), we want to have more cars, fancier, mote expensive, a better brand; and all this becomes a cycle. When did we start measuring our lived by how much we have or what we can acquire? When did we forget about what is truly important to us? When did we stop paying attention to our families and friends, caring, truly caring about the person that we have by our side? When did we start taking love for granted and sacrificing it for the sake of more money? I real