Ai, aquests impulsos que m'arrosseguen a escriure mentre em dóna per escoltar chansons franceses pel youtube gràcies a una casualitat. Si poguéssim viatjar pel temps...
Avui he escrit aquests versos,
és que no m'atraveixo a dir poesia,
només perquè em divertia.
FALLING HELPLESS
Never pretended perfection
but just eagerly tried to achieve
an improved, a greater version
of what she was supposed to be.
She couldn't escape from herself,
so she sought some consolation,
and she cried for warming words
to relieve her suffocation.
And with every new deception,
which will not remove her fears,
there's again a new rejection,
which will not dry out her tears.
But she'd place too many things
on the wrong side of the scales,
so she often lost her feet
falling helpless on her face.
Vaja, crec que no m'ha quedat tan malament...
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