Costumbre Yeta

There's a well-trodden path that goes
From the unconscious to the heart
Where anxiety and confusion march
The idea emerged
Burning alive
Neurons of the conscious

So many destinies of loneliness
So many journeys of darkness
Thieving passengers
Of life and dreams
And a bad
Bad luck habit
That always keeps going around

Walking the street fed up
Of crashing into disappointment
To endure and find
Was always the intention
And they criticized my company
Still, I sat on the corner

But when everything darkened
You offered me clarity
Like a furious storm
Sweeping away the pain
And so that bad
Bad luck habit
I will divert its turns

And I won't let
Them snatch life away
With great difficulty
A work built
Because one accompanied
Can seal a pact
Forgetting the dirty gossip
Of those mouths
That speak without knowing anything
About the price of dreams
About what it costs
In poverty