When the child angersWhen the child storms about and hits,The role of the father is not to counter-stormAnd to end up both smothering. It is
It had been a long time since the ticklingBehind the center of the foreheadHad not sprung up in the course of Just Sitting. Small gravel
Pieces of meMyself, in pieces,To save the ship from sinkingWhile crossing the layers of darknessI have no idea how it finally reached the shoreOf the
Guitar strings blow a magic bubblewhere useless and destructive wordscan’t get in. It only takes a few seconds for the bubble to take shape.I wish
First you need to keep silent, keep the silence, protect it, like a bodyguard.Surround it and make sure that conditions are preserved to sustain silence.
You say : They’re ruining my life. They prevent me from living. How could they ‘ruin your life” when they are made with the very