Inspired by a painting from
Ángel Ramírez.
I was not born in a crib of gold
much less did I have a father,
I was begotten.
I always lost the victories
until the surprise came:
a world at my back
full of stories
as tools to cross the arch.
My triumph was being built.
After I was assigned to live
and not just to survive the abandonment.
I hope to love the past and the defeats,
no matter how hurt or bitter.
YOU ARE READING
When I close my door
PoetryI dedicate this work to all the friends who are left in the heart. To all those who love me. In When I close my door, a social interest and a renunciation for the sake of communication is explicit, the subject destroys his exterior, recomposes himse...
