.. We are dreamers, poets, jugglers,
clown masks and makeup,
then ordinary men, lost between tomorrow and yesterday,
between piles of words and rhymes that make you dream,
they cry, they think.
We write for our pleasure,
is our desire to communicate,
often denounce, trying to understand.
For those who want to follow,
will play with words,
secrets, sins, dreams invented
wishes come true and no,
How High concepts, passions controlled
and a series of lies, for the more forgetful.
The desire is that we want in,
not it may contain,
we not capricious, sometimes, or eternal children,
but our pun
is a need to feel close ..
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