The End

.

A sunday smile

.

Wet Cement

.hjghj

.

 

Here I go again, passing by 

like silence

with no time to look back 

and take the same step, that is never the same

even more when my boots touch wet cement

A Man with a Bag

.

The Wall

 .

 

She'll turn to stone

.

Metal heart

.

Through the window, staring

.

Stuck outside, just reflections on a window shop,

the thin air and

a light that doesn't get deeper.

The crystal frontier

keeps you away from a reality that yearns for an inhabitant.