Letter to life.


When I improvise as a poet, some of your children confuse my reflection on innocence with an admission of weakness, others validate and encourage me, so you triumph by your complexity!
When I take love for granted, loved ones abandon me in the name of love! They do not bear the idea that I may be wrong but readily accept those who deceive them on my account, so you triumph by your mysteries.
When I doubt love, a friend improvises Santa Claus and gives birth in me a hope, a recognition, a joy of life, so you triumph by your presence!
When I get tired of looking, you give me reasons to find, and when I find, you take over to send me in search of other dreams, so you stand out by your endless game!
You experience me, I feel it and then you prove to me that it was worth it and sometimes the pain is too great but the call is irresistibly sincere that I say yes no matter the consequences!
You amaze me with your choices, you give me without me asking and you spoil me without me meriting it. You teach me and question me through trials, I learn and I answer for your trials through perseverance! You tough me up and I endure and like an athlete I become strong.

You wave to me when I sign a contract, so I know that nothing is eternal! All that is important, you write it in small letters, impatient, I act without paying attention and very quickly I find myself trapped!
To the artists you gave them the gift of talking about lives, only they are assigned each of the lives they tell!
To the parents you lent them your children, only they do not know the limits between those who belong to them and those of which you are the sole owner!
To the children, you have lent them the parents, only they struggle to establish their authority and autonomy without hurting those they love the most in the world!
To the orphans, you have been harsh, to the oppressed you have been unjust, to the weakest you have proved incredibly defeatist!
Talking about you, I am passionate because I can complain because I did not ask for anything and when I dared to do so, you hid my present, I speak of you too because to you alone I owe you accounts!
You are and will remain a riddle to solve. And as Victor Hugo would say ,”God Beni the man not for having found but for searching”. I will always look for you and I will embrace as much the happiness you offer me and the pain you inflict on me to make me think but also to make me more and more free!



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