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The brown pumpkin

The brown pumpkin




The brown pumpkin

And its thick round stomach

Lives in the vegetable garden

Without no friendship

The remainder of its days

The end of  its loves


Netting our destinies

of their roots crossings

To hopeless another one similar

Hide him the sun

Its neighboring nettles

Bad company

Trying to choke him

The humiliating of irony


Let neglected

San even an old cardboard

In the bottom of the garden

All close to the basin

And the sap left

Its dead roots


The winter arrived

On the tip of feet

Bringing the chilly

The kiss and cracks

Rains that make sleet

For that sounds the knell


The old round pumpkin

Feet in ices

Express regrets

In spite of its simple-minded air

He knows that he is going to die

Without can have tasted

Some of pleasures

That men created



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