Bleeding pain, crying love

                                                 

I used to have a beautiful treasure,

thousends of precious stones,

one more beautiful than the other...

There where your words, 

in every poem of you 

that I could read,

they take me to a 

beautiful yard full 

of mango trees,

a place I used to know

and that I miss and love..

Whitout them I feel lost,

is a physical pain,

I feel it in my bones,my skin,the tears in my eyes, I feel my spirit struggling like a man being hung..Hoping that someone cut the rope..