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THE BOOK OF LIFE.
Life is like a large canvas, where the colors are
stirring constantly to create ever new
colors, like my moody.
But I am able to paint it with colors unique and special that only
dreams that were kept in my heart could create.
dreams that were kept in my heart could create.
He was like my life as a book, but my secret
is not the final page, but the commitment, strength, intensity of each
is not the final page, but the commitment, strength, intensity of each
page and every day live as if it were your last.
Today
gift to my life every day so much joy trying not to demoralize the
gift to my life every day so much joy trying not to demoralize the
trivia ... this is .....
my secret. 
Some time it relies on the mechanical noise of a clock, there are those who see it that time always locked behind a glass wall or as small as a river that carries its waters to the sea continued to live in it eternamente.A times, it seems that does not pass, it's like a swallow nests on the eaves, comes and goes, comes and goes, but always under my occhi.E when things happen, when it is not always the right time, maybe because only then had the opportunity to demonstrate their importance, and today one of the wet green grass on the banks of my memories have liquefied the years that no one can ever stop ...
Some time it relies on the mechanical noise of a clock, there are those who see it that time always locked behind a glass wall or as small as a river that carries its waters to the sea continued to live in it eternamente.A times, it seems that does not pass, it's like a swallow nests on the eaves, comes and goes, comes and goes, but always under my occhi.E when things happen, when it is not always the right time, maybe because only then had the opportunity to demonstrate their importance, and today one of the wet green grass on the banks of my memories have liquefied the years that no one can ever stop ... 
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