There was a time when laughter filled my life and my skin absorbed all the tears. The joy was my day to day and the nostalgia was just a written word in dictionaries. It was the happiness of others and let me touch it in the bad moments, gave warmth on cold nights and heard confessions and secrets that nobody else knew.
I know I was important in many lives, filled holes and fill gaps. Vi grow to around me while I was forever young, hoping that other arms surround my body. Endured neglect in trunks, water baths at forty degrees and patches that all my wounds healed.
I accepted that everything worked on the basis of cycles and at the end of each cycle played hide in the trunk until another dawn came. Expected whenever a new life appeared and timid eyes scrutinized me with curiosity. Expected to become someone important, a reference to go back over the years, part of the story of a person ...
And today ... today I am left feeling the cold meat and noticing how wet I rain in this city may cry, in the same way as I do now. My end has come. No more hugs and kisses goodnight. I can not be night watchman or guard against the exercise of ghosts. Today
no more cycles or laughter because someone decided to get rid of my throwing away forcing me to accept. I have fear. I hope a miracle, someone grabbed my hand and rescue me from this cruel end ...
And the city continued to cry ...
For those who are unable to pull one stuffed with us so many times ...
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