Rodriguez Silvio
Causes and Chances
On My Street
On my street there is a gray sidewalk
where the gazes are glued
of those who look where they are going.
On my street there is a bench that is
as long and white as marble
where we will end up.
I don't know why the tall ones are so white
windows that look at the sky.
On my street the world does not speak
people look at each other and pass by in fear.
If I didn't live in the city
maybe I would see the dirty tree
where I used to go to play.
On my street of silence it is
and it passes by my side
it is an uneven memory.
I I don't know why I'm looking, why I'm loving, why I'm living, I don't know why I'm crying, why I'm singing,
why am I dying

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