The crown of roses
chases my words
as if understood
and I wish
the crown could
as did the hummingbirds
The roses
have become my muse
and friends
I cannot refuse
They may hold
a world so limited
and yet so deep
-were they not prohibited-
My world is too broad
for the crown to understand
It sees reality through the mirror
I hold on my hand
While I see it
from the trajectory of a vision
yet to be lauded
Vision that the roses
had projected
on the narrow spaces
of the corner’s muses
The crown of roses turns viciously
and daily on the same wheel
holding my secrets
and reflecting what I feel
for I am a slave
of all the earth’s errors
and sorrows no one forgave
The roses sing with my voice
They dance with my feet
with notes
that never meet
while life recedes in the distance
and I keep on wishing
I understood better
when I lived
a faraway instance
I am glad now
I hold this wisdom tighter
the one that had been lost
by an immature hinderance
The crown of roses
veils me with the life
which endlessly
I pursue with strife
I place a crown of roses
on the lad yet not fully grown
who died for his country
and became an unknown
