If one day you find my heart on the street, in the gutter, give it back to me, because I need it to keep my hopes up.
Heart is sometimes naive, leaves home and doesn't know the way back, gets lost among so many looks, so many searches, so much need.
Like a boy who still believes that the world is kind, he dances among the crowd, filling himself with sounds and colors...
Decorating himself with the tenderness and caresses that come with the breeze, he gets lost on the road, beats slowly, tired, aimlessly, through the warm sands of time.
If you find it, return it to me, but I ask that you bring it with care, as if it were a relic, and I will put it back in your chest, because I want to think that there is still a way, a way to make it beat faster, and find joy still, even if tired, harassed, and hope that life is made of joy, and colors, and loves, because a broken heart can still be glued, and yield many laughs, set off fireworks, because life without love , my friend is not life, it is existence...
