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the man of the hour is tired, tired of me, of you, of all, he doesn't see in the mirror an entity that wants to crush him but he sees in reality that is most worrying.

the man of the hour is sad, his eyes doesn't shining with the light as once did it, shine all the time followed by the tear that always is on the verge of rolling down her cheeks that three years ago looked pompous.

the man of the hour is observed at any reflective surface. He touches his gray hairs, wrinkles, dark circles in his eyes that have caused the years, says he is getting uglier across the time.

the man of the hour no laugh anymore, smiles before it was easy to steal, I guess he lost the idea how to paint one on his face.

the man of the hour doesn't hug me like years ago, doesn't close to me neither, and talk about silly stuffs with her daughter.

the man of the hour isn't an oak anymore too, gradually become in something that bends, plastic would be a hard description, now walks bent and not use a stick 'cause his pride would not let him.

the man of the hour always looks at nothing, remember those pictures of Christ when he looks the sky, like asking mercy for something.

the man of the hour doesn't look at me, never, seems like has forget how to get it too.....

the man of the hour live worried, worried about what he did and can't did too... he believes that the mediocrity of their son an daughters is his fault, everyone is guilty of what it is, just like that..

the man of the hour feels alone, looks uncomfortable and all the time talks about how much cost his life agree the bank and his life insurance.....

the man of the hour wants to go to the church, is coming to what his father argued about the religious habits after 55 years, people get older pray cause goes in the countdown and have less time to apologize for damage . A prayer to God don't delete the words that hurt someone, but are beliefs that are inherited.

the man of the hour knows, knows a lot but doesn't want to share it, time gives a degree of wisdom that many of us can't understand. The aging is a process, a verb, it's conjugate, it's just a point that we will reach who must to reach it.

the man of the hour has no fucking idea what happens, everyone is locked in their sorrows, in their grief and in itself, our degree of selfishness is such that we can see how much harm the other. We are a basket of apples, where one is spoiled for 16 years + / -, feigns madness, and decency to go unnoticed, maturity is over and we reached the next step. Now we are all rotten.

the man of the hour was guiding me, loving his way, why just can't undesrtand mine?

This is not goodbye, not even now, I refuse to "the man of the hour, of my life ".....get his last applause, no .... at least not that way.....

sorry to this space, it's just....if i don't write it, i die with my own poison......