Sometimes we are not here.

Sometimes we are not here.
We flew in our thoughts of grief and love.
The smile never leaves us.
This is the travesty that was invented by our ancestors.

Sometimes we would be of those who bleed in hospitals.
Sometimes we are of the few people who resist such stupidity in such a small body.
Sometimes everything is perfect.
Then we have things to do.
We demand.
We are idiots.
We do certain favors to another whenever he wants to stay in the game.

Sometimes telling the truth.
Why lie?
Most of the victims tend to conceal the truth.
Out of fear.
For shame.
For long endure.
We had too many problems in this world.

Sometimes keep inventing more.
Sometimes it would be nice to offer an apology to the soul and the Pacha Mama.