THE MAP OF LIFE
On my bronze-colored skin,
I carved the path of my life.
A long map was formed,
one meter and sixty centimeters
.
Oh, what do you say, my times,
the map began to turn yellow, to wrinkle,
The letters were erased along the paths of my steps.
Little by little, it will disintegrate into organic fertilizer.
The desolate map felt,
the unwanted invitation of death.
It howled at the dome of the sky, saying;
“How little I lived”, and I did not know how to live.
