Teorema

The time has come for my debate
Staring at her door I await, frantic heartbeat draws
the old man?s fragile shape


Few minutes pass, like hours last
Embrace the phantom of my past


For twenty years I never saw her face
My little girl abandoned to her grace
For my cowardice I left without a trace


As I lift my trembling hands, I can feel my spirit
hoping
For her to understand
Finally pound the door
Revealing fear and doubt that struggle through this
painful score
There is no escape

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