. You just like me, you too, even they; the same hearts, bourgeois or plebeian, sharing the breeze, embracing flashes of colorful laughter, of different hair. I carry a crucifix, you pray on the rug, yet, we both have the same shadow beside us. We are not special, if death calls us, we go to the same Eden, there no one is surprised. Humans, humans, that is what we are, different or similar, white, black, red, yellow, with gold or dust in our hands, some of us cry, others laugh, but in the end we are human, with much or nothing in our hands. Your house is a castle, mine is cardboard boxes, we find ourselves alone living among millions of faces without smiles, full of confusion, losing all essence, for miserable reasons. We are all human, we are all equal, before devils and gods mere mortals; loyal or villainous with unequal minds we are this or that behind the glass. Humans, humans that's what we are different or similar white, black red, yellow with gold or dust in our hands some cry, others laugh but in the end we are human with much or nothing in our hands
