© by Beatriz MP
I stay in a green guesthouse,
there is a computer with no mouse.
Plenty of thoughts are working out in my mind,
that is what walking alone brings back.
My friend was once in my heart
so when he left I held hands with art
I could create a world of fantasy.
I thought that it could be fine.
Loneliness is my legacy,
my generous privacy.
I am the same and growing old,
a good memory from the past, after all.
Our precious moments still can last
is time a thief that runs very fast?
it is a friend that never comes back.