Smoke this life

I got to smoke this life
the shape for every dream is so undefined
the shape for every memory is yet even more boundless
rare, like a shifting vision of events
happened over and over between changing ages
across people and places
meaningless, so to let know,
it was happened, someday, in the past.

I portray the quiet and silent, smoking life waster
while the life itself smokes away from me
I have trown these memories to the night sky
many others still remain
every day from now,
every day since the day I was born.

Each newborn generation
begins the cycle,
being pointless to fight time
youth is a very short moment
captured in our minds to be recall
in a shapeless memory
that helplessly will smoke away with the dreamer.

Anger

Im not angry at the world anymore,
the sigth confuse me, challenge my patience
but it dont turn me mad anymore
like it used to
cant take me again, cant burn me again
I dont mind to get hurt,
I have loose the fear of humilliation and loneliness
the fear of rejection and hate
Just stoped controlling life to enjoy it,
my volcano is no longer filled with fire.

No, Im not mad at the world anymore
Its sound is so annoying and yet,
there are times when I sing and goes away
happens that I killed my pretentious self all over the place,
I had the rage to crash against it, now its gone

My anger self dont wear fists for good, dont even exist
only today the sky is a wide clean scape
scape to the streets coming too tight for breathing
too restless,

So, I rest in my toughts
I rest on you, and the pain and anger is left with the world,
I rest with a couple of songs and some flower hide along the sidewalk
I rest with the shinning green of nature
and then I stop feeling angry,
like I used to,

No, Im not angry with the world anymore
I had forgive myself,
I had stop pushing me along with the rest of the world

Now, Im going to rest on you,
Im going to rest on your love,
Im going to go to wherever comes from
that peace you give away
to all and everyone who stops falling slave
slave of anger.