by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
I tried to be invincible.
I read books.
I searched every sentence.
It did not help.
I tried to find the truth.
I should have sought the lie.
I should have sought out
hope, but I found despair.
I did not know
the difficulty I would face.
I attempted to find phrases,
words, which I could swear
by. Each time a new thought
put its fist through the old
thought, and perhaps
it was a good thing.
Yesterday was yesterday.
The future will come.
In the end no one is invincible,
not even your enemies.
August 7, 2009
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