For a long time I did not trust the pen,
For I was too scared of the truth that it might write.
In a world where words perforates the hearts of men,
I began to slowly reside behind every tears I cried.
The heart was inked with the thousand injustices I had committed against myself.
I asked to be incarcerated but they said: no sentences; for the ones that wrong their soul.
I commuted towards a place that was destined to be different.
The train was filled with broken souls that once believed too.
Interrupted on their journey they had no choice but to depart too.