The street light yellow
nights the silenced talk
of some franking mind.

Upsets the sleep of another
that doesn't feel more
than something went beyond.

Wakes by smiles
and meaning full small talks.

For it's the gentle movements
that nobody listens
that move mountains
if heard.


Pain and fear and spare joy
are nothing compared to
this little glimpses of life.

Few carry the burden
and get sad with a lot.
For the lot is meaningless...

Too much air on this world
and not much of ground.

The train moves in every direction,
staying still, I guess...

Confusion.