MY WEAKNESS

HENRY RUIZ

I suffer from a rare disease, I do not know if I will be the only one who has been infected or also some part of humanity; I feel discomfort in my heart, like strong eruptions similar to those of a volcano and at the same time as the acceleration of a car at miles per second.

 

I feel like the end and the beginning of something, and it's not a bad thing; It is something special and fantastic, I feel greatness in spite of being small and what is coming is even bigger and more beautiful, the feeling grows and grows, a love grows that will never end.

 

I look like the little boy who awaits the gift of Santa Claus for Christmas but for me it will be the gift of the star of Bethlehem bringing love. I was infected with the masterly fruit that without thinking would become my weakness.

 

How much joy without thinking, how much joy without imagining it, how much is left for what is expected? Little is missing for a love and a dream come true, the weakness of my moments in a complete captivated glow.

 

Henry Ruiz

November 7, 2019

  • Autor: henry ruiz (Seudónimo) (Offline Offline)
  • Publicado: 7 de noviembre de 2019 a las 16:25
  • Categoría: Amor
  • Lecturas: 19
  • Usuarios favoritos de este poema: HENRY RUIZ
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