Image
With the years you no longer argue,
the words become soft,
the fire that used to burn is reduced
to the ashes of old and grave yearnings.
You don't get angry, because you understood
that the echo in the room does not justify,
every silence sometimes lingers,
and there is peace in the simple that the soul explains.
You avoid talks that no one understands,
the reasons that graph life,
the advice, at times, descends,
for in experience we find the way out.
In the end, with time,
if someone loves you, you stay,
you cling to love like a temple,
and to the laughter that is our nets.