The conflictThe conflict:Its always present.But why?Why is it necessary to arrive to that point?Whether its armed with words or weapons.It does the same evil.A deep wound.The ones of weapons can be sewed back on.But the ones of words,How can it be cured?With other words you will say to me.Yes but which words I say.Love,Tolerance,Comprehension.But it is still necessary that they are heard.Without that they are useless.Sometimes the organ is there,But the will is not.What gives the same result.And it is called conflict.
At the research of the truthAt the research of the truthYou seek but don't find it,Or partially,You chose a way that few understand,You're in it body and soul,There is nothing else but you and your thoughts,Don't drown inside it,Stay lucid,Don't let yourself be blinded by truth,And peacefully walk,Of a decided step towards your destiny,Who is not to save the world,But to make it prettier,Smile and the life will smile back at you,Forgive those which doubted your choice,Continue on this way,And the truth will come to you.
I understand youI understand you,Because its me now who suffers from the flown away happiness.This weekend was for me one of most beautiful which is.We were altogether,With unison we laughed,Simple pleasures we profited,Finally we had fun.Thousand things we said,Straight or twisted,Nice or sadistic,But we never seriously took them.Now all that is finished.Until,Altogether,We will meet,For the same song,And even for a twosome.
One more yearIt's one more yearOne more year of kindness,One more year of tenderness,One more year of wisdoms,One more of everything else!If like wine,You improve yourself with the age,I would like,To exchange it with you,And I hope that,In one year,All this will be renewed,Your kindness,Your tenderness,Your wisdom,Well all!Because without that,It could not be you any more,The mother of all the mothers,Is in front of me,She is,And it's all that counts for me.
The beaujolaisShining and sparkling cup,You prepare to accommodate,The liquid of the land.The one which,Gathered in good season,Carefully triturated,You will release,A dress,A scent,A color.You'll border the lips,You'll go inside this body,You're going to exhilarate .Like the one which,Attracted by the girl in beauty,Will border her lips,Then roll up her dress,Smell her flower,Appreciate her color,To finish in her body,To finally,Make her head turn.
HappinessHappiness:Is rare,Is invaluable,Is very simple.Like a head laid on a shoulder,Like closing your eyes and thinking of loving,Like a glance.And yet,It's what's most valuable in this world.Everyone seeks it,But few people find it.It's not bought,It's not sold,It's acquired.It leaves,It comes,We always run after it,We only want to keep it to ourselves.But happiness never comes alone,When it's shared.
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