There are machines and people who have studied.
People who come in through pain,
another that enters through love.
The one that appears as the result of a miracle, having tears as first words,
as suspecting that life will be something like it's going to hurt,
but you keep walking if the good comes.
There are people who leave with a smile,
and there are those who stay forever.
Poor of those who stay forever.
There are corridors with drawings,
little smiling angels who make them the parks they can not go to,
sad teddies that smell like home,
people with tears tattooed on their cheeks,
and smiles that they want and can not.
Sentenced to death, all innocent.
A green mile without hope.
A coming and going of feelings.
There are those who hurt train stations,
but there at least,
You are not forced to say goodbye.