enero 30, 2013

I miss

 

I miss when we had time
To walk, to talk, to play
To wish that we could fly
Towards a brighter day

I miss our countless nights
When dreams kept us awake
When all was within sight
When all was our to make

I miss when we could cry
In an increasing pace
And rise, strong, and wise
Prepared to win the race

I miss when we could ride
Our hopes of greater fate
But now there are just cries
Of dreams while they’re slayed

I miss our will to rise
Against our biggest threat
But now I see in your eyes
That you have joined with them

I miss our freedom fights
Against the ones who paid
But now you have a price
At which I’m going in sale

I miss when we had time
To dream of better days
But now, I see your smile:
It’s young, but it’s enslaved

 

Enrique Gatica @Gaticapoeta

Estudiante de Ingeniería en Computación en el ITAM.

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