Iluntzean
Ken Zazpi
At Dusk
like every day, it is painted too much
wanting to hide the suffering on the face
feeling unable to find what you wanted in front of the mirrors
head, down
the time of the institute, the joint of the pipe behind the wall
inside, usual
the first kiss given to the boy in that dark portal
lost illusions forced to laugh
unable to feel the sting in the heart that has been deceived
enduring in silence all the wounds thrown to the future in the eternal minimums at dusk
at the port of the world, a cigarette in hand
escaping far away on the wave, finding its star on top
not suffering more, feeling alive making fun
at the port of the world, a cigarette in hand
escaping far away on the wave, finding its star on top
not suffering more, believing again feeling alive
