I used to appreciate the dawn

I used to appreciate the dawn


I used to appreciate the dawn
It was a custom for me to make-up the day with false reasons. I pretended to make it beautiful.
It was not acceptable to me to lose the hope of caress the soft and silver skin of the desire.
It was a custom to wait for the future on a bank of a park, under the night, until to the dawn, sad but with illusions.

I used to appreciate the dawn, but the thick mist of my faults appeared.
The rain falls every day.
I really miss her.
One thing that I get depressed about is waiting for the rainbow.
One thing that I really get depressed about is knowing that it is there, behind of my nonentity.
I could never forget her. I hug her memory in my restless dreams.