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Poetry

Waiting for the Sun

It may seem the days are dark and blurry

For the lively sun sleeps

Time goes by drawing sheets of boring moments

Faces portray gloom, the firmaments make it even worse

Even the little rabbits, birds and butterflies that glide

About the wonderful landscape hid from the valleys

Sweet flowery scents are stifled in the cold winds

And maybe the environment is very sick

By the hillside, a group of travelers make camp

Their caravans including patches of white in the scenario

Different colors of triangles, of cotton materials pin

To the ground, but the pretty colors will not shine forth

Deep inside the village, the farmers file their gadgets

In their minds and perhaps among their crops in the field

It was a cold day, one without any joy, a lost one

So, within and without, all stay to wait for the sun