HANDS FULL

 My time is found in your smile and I wrote forewords

sirvieron.¿Que not done when the heart beats and I can hardly breathe?

Now I speak, I look, I know, everything is useless, the soul of sadness is enclosed. our

worlds do not give, then the dream of blue summers.

I think when you lower your head while you settle back hair pulling.

Love'm a friend of silence, you also. Cowardly both.

Sometimes I die in disappointment, but misses me, and I wonder what is all this?

Your apathy ... my inspiration.

I'm going with their hands full.

A time to plant and a time to pluck

what is planted. Ecclesiastes 3: 7.