Peace Makers?

Peace, in little pieces
cross or bullet
the only format
that hypocrites find to swallow
through your throat, trying to aim your mind
how they can find?
something that they don’t have
sad, so sad
think about a heaven
that won’t gonna receive
half that believe
that deserve it
not a cross is the answer
not a gun will be the peace maker

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Hungry of You

Hungry, full of angry
empty like a bag full of dead dreams
like me
without your kiss
bliss, insidious like a morning breeze
my foot trying to find yours
seconds, minutes, hours
our bodies, warm like water
wonder, wander, me like a blotter
without definition, without pattern
I’m not here in this planet
to be another one, just another
silly-normal-sad-better
than the last companier
that shared his lament
with a dead note
I write, I wrote
about de(e)pression
my possession
about sad things, about bad meanings
but, now I understood
my hungry
fed by my angry
it’s just because
I missed you