Monday, May 10, 2004

Three words

I have always lived,
And played
With three words


I always wish to have more
I would ask my mom:
“ Buy me some words,
Doesn’t your basket have enough room for them?”
She would say:
“ Live with those three words
You can talk to each other
You can omen together
Not having more words, is not the weakness”

I knew that the lack of pencil,
Is much worse than having fewer words.

When I was with tree
Bird would say:
“You should write -the Tree- in green,
To persuade me to fly”
I could only write – the tree- in yellow,
By my only pencil.
And the bird would see the tree
Always in the autumn
And she would sulk.

This morning
I told to my mom:
“ Buy me some color pencil”
Mom laughed:
“ Only the words could cure your pain”


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